


Death's Daughter

by Echosofgrace



Category: WWE, wrestling - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2020-04-11 21:24:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 124,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19117990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echosofgrace/pseuds/Echosofgrace
Summary: When Triple H's adopted daughter steps in to Stephanie's office what ensues is nothing short of mischief and mayhem. How will she handle the challenge presented and can she perform to her stepmother's exacting standards? Can she set aside her past to find friendship and possibly even love?





	1. Stephanie's Office

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters presented. When I originally wrote this I had no idea Dean was going to AEW. I am aware that some of the details are not correct, forgive me. Also, Cailin's abilities on the ropes are predicated on what wrestlers like Ali and Ricochet have been doing lately. In case there is any confuse throughout the majority of the story I will be using the actual name and not the character name when they aren't at an event.

“Hello Cailin, thank you for coming in on such short notice. Please, have a seat.” The lovely brunette politely offered me a seat in one of the suede clad chairs across from her desk, her feathers schooled in a professional mien.

“Good morning, Stephanie. Thank you for the invitation.” I sat down, smoothing the gray skirt I wore under my rear and attempted to match her composure.

“You are most welcome. Do you know why I asked you to come in today?” She inquired, blue eyes twinkling with mischief, and she placed her pale hands on top of the cherry-stained wood of her desk.

“No, ma’am, I’m afraid I wasn’t told anything by the gentleman that pulled me out of training. Have I done something wrong?” I tried to maintain my external calm and the polite tenor of my voice but the fear in my eyes belied the mien I sported, and I curled my hands in my lap to avoid rubbing a hole in the suede out of anxiety.

“No, darling, quite the opposite actually! You have been most impressive! The trainers, promoters, and scouts say you are progressing exceptionally well. They are so smitten, in fact, that they have suggested that you are ready to move to the main roster. It surprised me initially but after reviewing several of your recent matches I can see why they are pushing you so hard. That being said I think I have a role for you.” Despite the professional bent to her behavior there was still a predatory gleam to her eyes, the hint of the villain she played so well peeking out, and I felt my heart stop for a second before it began to race in fear.

I considered throwing up on the thick pile of the plush ivory carpet but that seemed a boorish way to thank my boss for what equated to a promotion. I knew this woman, had grown up in her home, and I didn't trust her. The only reason I hadn't stood up and walked out was that I was dealing with Professional Stephanie, the one that would do what was best for the business no matter how distasteful she found it personally. She had something on her mind, some kind of plan, and I had a starring role. This concerned me yet I was intrigued at the same time, curiosity driving me to learn what she intended to do. The moment felt surreal and I had to wonder if time had stopped, if I were dreaming, if she were pranking me, or if I had been transported to an alternate universe where she wasn't entirely evil. She had been honest about one thing – everyone that has seen me and worked with or around me had been impressed and routinely said as much. I had been working in the developmental and lower-level promotions for the company for the last three years and quietly built a name for myself. In the six months I had spent in the middle tier promotion I had challenged everyone, male and female, it hadn’t mattered, I wanted to beat them all to prove that I was truly the best. In an attempt to slow me down, management had paired me with people and even during tag team competition I performed well, my ability to work with anyone and make them look good giving partnerships the air of natural ease. I presently boasted a near historic win streak for NXT, the initial losses obliterated by the run of victories that had followed and I showed no signs of slowing down. It was my sustained streak combined with my style and appearance that had fans coming back week after week, eager to see what I would do next and if someone could get lucky enough to beat me. 

A natural redhead, I was tall for a woman, standing five feet, ten inches, and while I was muscular and lean I had also been blessed with curves. I had been compared to Natalya and Charlotte Flair in my stature and looks, something I considered high praise, but the commentators and scouts had to reach for someone to equate and contrast my skills with. My willingness to spar with anyone reminded them of the veteran women of the company, equating my bravery with Lita and Trish, but the strength, speed, and agility were more akin to what the younger generation of male talent in the company was being encouraged to embrace. The thing that stuck out most was the grace with which I worked, a constant hint of training aside from and in addition to wrestling. This combined with the mental acumen I showed in the ring gave each fight a unique feel and scouts noticed over time that I never closed a fight the same way. My penchant for bringing my dance, gymnastics, and other sports experience to the ring permitted me to introduce moves not seen before into my matches which drive my opponents insane. The scouts noticed an old school feel to some of my moves, hints of past wrestlers I was too young to remember or have seen work. I took those moves and put my own spin on them, forcing my opponents to adapt to my style and adjust to the unique nature of my skills. The women that saw me most weeks gradually got used to it and countered as best they could but the men that faced off with me rarely stood a chance. The women left the ring disappointed but not surprised by the outcome while the men departed enraged and frustrated.

While it surprised and upset my opponents to lose in the ways they did, what was truly shocking to all and sundry was my lack of wardrobe mishaps. No one had figured out how I had managed to avoid exposing myself during my matches especially with how high I flew and the way I flipped and tumbled about the ring. We had all received multiple lectures throughout our careers about this issue and the women went out of our way to avoid it but accidents happened. The fans made no secret of the fact they hoped something would happen and their disappointment when it didn’t, much to the irritation of the talent. I found it amusing when they were stymied, their disappointment coming from a lack of knowledge about how women’s wrestling outfits were built. All of my costumes were built on or worn over a skin tone bodysuit, so while it appeared that I was wearing a bra-like top and booty shorts I actually had another full-body outfit on underneath. Even if my full B cups had slipped from my bra the bodysuit would have kept the fans from seeing anything they shouldn’t have, and some well-placed spirit gum and costuming tape were additional insurance to keep that from happening. The sexual objectification of female wrestlers was a longstanding issue and we knew that predators lurked in our crowds but most of the time they were kept far enough away from the talent that all they could do was daydream and hope.

Now as I sat in the office of the Commissioner of RAW and one of the heads of management I could see a different predator staring silently back at me from Stephanie’s eyes. This woman, my dad’s wife, my stepmother, and one of the banes of my existence was talking about moving my talents to the main roster, a dream come true should it actually happen but not a likely reality if I were honest with myself. This conversation had two endings from my perspective – if it went well I would be one of the fastest call-ups in NXT history even if it wasn’t a sustained promotion, and if it went poorly I would be fired, the more likely outcome. Even if I made the transition to the main roster there was a possibility she could and would misuse my character and if that happened I risked sustaining a career-ending injury and a portion of me wondered if that weren’t her intention. My stomach rolled over again, and I felt the bile creep up my throat as I waited for an explanation or for her to laugh and tell me she was just kidding, that I would never be called up. The smell of leather filled my nose as I unfolded my hands and placed them on the seat beside my hips, leaning forward, and followed my gut, wisdom dictating that I play along with an abundance of caution, and thus I proceeded to chase the rabbit down the hole.

“What kind of role did you have in mind, ma’am?” I inquired in a polite tone, curious and hesitant all at once, my fingers drawing random designs on the suede in an attempt to settle my nerves.

“I think you would make a marvelous femme fatale. With your looks, skills, and acting abilities you would be the perfect person to pull off a double-cross.” She replied the feral grin she gave me causing goosebumps to rise on my arms.

“Oh? How so?” I felt the tug of curiosity strengthen, the rabbit hole deepening.

“We need to flip a long-time face to a heel. I think you would be ideal as the cause of that turn.” There was a twinkle in her eye that matched her smirk as she explained her plan. 

“I think I could help you with that. Who is my mark and how badly to I get to aggravate her?” I chuckled, nodding as I considered the proposition, not suspecting that there was something underhanded on her mind.

“Oh, no, darling, no it won’t be that simple. Your mark isn’t a woman. No, I need you to flip Roman Reigns.” She sat back, smug smile curling her lips as she took in my stunned expression.

“I… wait... What? Excuse me, did I hear that right? Roman? You want me to… Did Vince sign off on this?” Flabbergasted did not begin to cover my shock as I questioned the sanity of her idea and whether her father had agreed to this.

“Yes, Vince is on board with Roman flipping. He left how to me and I have been given permission to use any means necessary. Truth be told, he’s been good for so long it is well past time for him to go bad. I think the best way to make that happen is for you to do him dirty and tip him over the edge.” She laughed, amused by the myriad emotions flickering across my face.

“You know how to challenge a person, Steph. I… I have to admit to being both intrigued and trepidatious about how you see this going.” I settled back in my seat, grinning as the various ways I could torment Roman flitted through my mind.

“Romance darling. You convince him you love him then break his heart deliberately. We are going to make you a companion for a specific wrestler to begin with then add in singles competition. The wrestler we are pairing you with and Roman have a history so do not be surprised if he doesn’t like you to begin with. You are going to have to work to convince him you care about him. How does that sound so far? Think you can handle the role?” She offered a smattering of details to give me a direction and challenged my ability to pull off the character, questioning if I could make this work.

“I believe I can, but it will take some ingenuity on my part. What’s the catch?” Despite being curious and wanting to jump on this opportunity before it vanished I didn’t trust the woman on the other side of the desk, and something cautioned me that she was not through with her surprises.

I heard a soft pair of clicks that hinted someone had joined us but before I could turn around to see who else she’d invited to this meeting she answered me.

“The catch? You have to carry a legacy. Oh, and it won’t be Hunter’s. You are not to speak of my husband, do I make myself clear? Not that you will have time. I think you will have your hands full with the name you are being given. We are giving you quite the mantle.” She laid out her terms, reminding me of the legal prohibitions on acknowledging my connections with my dad.

“I can work within those limitations. I respect the reputation you are passing on and see it as something of grave importance.” My mien echoed my words, my comportment indicating I understood her and accepted her terms, fingers still working the cushion of the seat.

A heavy hand landed on the back of my chair, the third party making their presence known and I silently cursed. I managed to avoid squeaking but I jumped a little, praying no one had noticed. A chuckle from Stephanie told me I hadn’t succeeded.

“So, this is the spitfire you called me down here to see? Well, young lady, stand up and let’s have a look at you.” A gravely male voice brought my attention around to our guest.

I rose slowly, rotating to face the man that stood behind me. Mark Calloway, better known as The Undertaker, towered over me, and with a look at the legend that perused my person I knew that I was in the presence of wrestling royalty. I inclined my head and curtsied to the older redheaded man, showing the deference that he deserved. He seemed impressed and amused, chuckling as he recognized my respect. He looked me over, appreciating what he saw in front of him, and after a minute a hand reached out to ruffle my hair as though I were a child. It took a moment for me to realize that he was searching for the roots of my hair, wanting to ascertain the nature of my color.

“It is my natural color. I have been ‘carrots’ and ‘ginger’ my entire life. I can change it if needed.” I assured him that it was my natural hair color then offered to do whatever necessary to be given this legacy.

“She’s eager to work, good, I like that. That makes this a little easier. If, and that is a large if little girl, I am going to pass my name and the Undertaker legacy on then yes the hair is important. If you are going to be the next iteration of the character a natural redhead is a must.” He chuckled as he withdrew his hand, nodding in approval.

“Excuse me?” I glanced over my shoulder, needing confirmation as the rabbit hole grew darker and more perilous and confusion set in.

“As I said, you aren’t claiming Hunter’s name, but we have found a way to give you a legacy you can wear with pride while keeping you on the main roster, potentially indefinitely. He is inclined to let you take on his legacy, assuming you are strong enough to bear the mantle.” Stephanie’s tone blended amusement and goading as she dared me to take on this challenge.

“Oh, I think she might do the trick. The question is whether or not she can handle the responsibility? The Undertaker name or any variation you give her has to be worn by a strong, determined person. Is she that? I’m not sure she is, and I don’t know that I am comfortable with a woman holding my legacy, even if it will get under Vince’s skin. Undertaker’s Daughter? Doesn’t have a strong ring to it.” Mark shook his head, disappointment and doubt evident as he questioned Stephanie’s plan.

“I’ve been NXT Woman’s champion for four and a half of the six months I have been wrestling there. I have held a championship in every league and promotion I have worked often within weeks of joining and I have retained it for most of my time in those venues. Is that enough strength, drive, and determination for you? And it doesn’t have to be anything like ‘The Undertaker’s Daughter’. Sure, we can allude to it and use your closes but why not allow the name to be unique? The clothes and entrance, if done right, are a dead giveaway, please excuse the pun. Even Death had a granddaughter, at least according to Pratchett.” I contradicted him as I stood up for my abilities and fought for the right to bear this name, my record in NXT a defense that was tangible. 

Mark smirked, at the feisty woman that dared sass him, “Oh, he did, did he? This is news to me!”

“Hades married Persephone, a fertility deity and depending on which mythos you read she was a willing participant. Do you really suppose she spent four to five months of her year knitting while she waited for Spring to return? No, I think it would be safe to assume there was something naughty going on in the underworld during those long winter months. How else do we explain you? Why wouldn’t Death’s offspring have kids of their own? Why wouldn’t Hades have a granddaughter?” I crossed my arms over my chest as I gave him a sassy smirk in reply, countering his argument handily.

“You have to admit, she has your attitude, irreverence and all. As I told you on the phone, I think she will be a perfect match.” Steph fought to contain her laughter, giddy with how well the interaction was going and knowing that no matter how it ended she won.

“And what about Clint? Do we just write him off? That young man has been fighting on NTX twice as long and has been busting his ass in training camp for months. I think he’s more deserving than she is, wouldn’t you agree?” He argued to Stephanie, reminding her there was another candidate in the picture.

I knew Clint, our paths crossing in and out of the ring, the redheaded man one I’d lost to early in my career in NXT. People often mistook us for siblings when they saw us together and the knowledge that he was also being considered for this job made me grin, a compromise coming to mind that would suit all parties.

“Twins!” I giggled as I postulated the notion to a pair of confused faces. “Twins! The Undertaker’s mother was a fertility deity! Would it be that much of a stretch? Why should the Undertaker legacy or his prowess in the bedroom be limited to a single child? His biological children aren’t old enough to follow him yet but in a decade or so they will be. Until then we can hold the name for them. It could work, think about it! The traditional male Undertaker and his sister, The Angel of Death, working in tandem to maintain the balance between the living and the dead. He can have the hat and duster and I will take the black clothing and a set of wings!”

Both members of my audience gaped for a minute then Mark nodded, grinning, “She’s got a damned good point and it makes me look like a stud. Double the terror will be enjoyable to watch and you can split their talents between the brand shows. She’s clever, and it is a good solution. I like it and you should run with this, Steph, I think it will work.”

Once the initial shock wore off and Stephanie realized that Mark had blessed the idea of twins she grinned, that feral smile told me she had every intention of making me pay for this success. I shivered, well aware of the depths of her maliciousness, and the evil in her eyes gave me cause to think my idea may have been too clever. She leaned forward, the way I had won Mark over goading her to be both kind and cruel as she pretended to be pleased.

“That sounds like an excellent solution! Alright, young lady, here is your script, it is the most current copy as of today but that is likely to change. You will need to arrange your costume and have it cleared before the Sunday of the next Pay-Per-View which I will remind you is a huge event. You will need to be able to wear it for the event and the next two or three brand shows so make certain it is durable. Now, we should discuss your training. You aren’t ready to do a full schedule of brand shows and house shows and since you aren’t actively competing in the women’s division I see no need to put you on the road yet. However, once the Pay-Per-View event happens you will go to a full schedule and I expect you to perform every single night.” Stephanie’s calm tone belied the wicked twinkle in her eye and the naughty smirk that curled her lips.

“The costume is easy. A black corset built on to a bodysuit with a pair of shorts and knee or thigh-high boots. If the boots won’t work then I will go with a pair of kick pads that make the shoes look like boots. I would like black wings that are easy to slip off before a match but that can be decided closer to my debut. And can we forgo the scythe? I feel like that is too cliché. If I need a weapon could I have sais? Plastic of course.” I ignored the comment about training in favor of detailing my outfit, attempting to leave as few details open to manipulation as possible.

Stephanie sat back, eyebrows going up in surprise, “That is very specific and quite detailed. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go with a schoolgirl look or the pants and bra sets that are popular right now? They would be easier to obtain and quicker too.”

“No but thank you. Liv Morgan is handling the naughty schoolgirl character just fine and I wouldn’t want to encroach on her aesthetic. The bra and pants are popular and that’s why I want something different. No one is doing the corset and it will make me stand out. Black is common enough in the business so I will need to accent it properly to set it apart and I need to think on those.” I paused, a slow grin creeping over my face, “Perhaps we should both get a duster. Clint could get the more traditional Reaper etched into his while I could have the wings built into mine. When I take off the coat I remove the wings and it is a single prop that is relatively easy to manage versus those big, clunky Victoria’s Secret style things.” I was thrilled with this notion, solving the question of wings and trench in one idea.

“A skirt? My child? Have you met my wife? No, the girl has it right. She knows her job is to reap souls, not sleep around. I approve of the costume if you do. I will even put her in touch with the people who have built my coats in the past.” He fixed Steph with an insulted look and shook his head before approving of my ring gear.

“Well, I guess that settles that. You have six weeks to get that done. Speaking of which, that’s how long you have before your first match. This cycle is a bit longer than normal and there are seven weeks until SummerSlam. During that time, you are going train in Tampa and you will be working with Drew, Dolph, Seth, and Roman. Against my better judgment, your dad has made all of your arrangements and will be there to observe you. Each week you will accompany Drew to the ring, Roman will be his opponent, and most of the matches will be tag team competitions so Seth and Dean will be ringside. Your challenge will be to distract him, but I also want you to get close to the trio, see if you can’t break up both groups.” Stephanie gave me more details about my task and how she intended to use my role in her plans.

“Yes, ma’am, I will do my best.” I nodded sincerely happy I was being permitted to continue with this endeavor.

“You are breaking up the five of them? That is surprising given how well they are working together and how invested the fans are in this feud.” Mark seemed surprised and genuinely disappointed.

“Dolph and Drew have been running on fumes for a little while. That they haven’t broken up on their own is a bit surprising. Breaking them up in six weeks shouldn’t be too difficult. Dissecting the members of SHIELD from one another is a different matter entirely. Roman and Seth never stopped being close even after Dean’s short retirement and they have become close with Finn and AJ as well. Both have stepped in recently to fill that vacant third slot before Dean returned. Getting Roman to turn on them will probably require more of my attention and potentially longer than six or seven weeks but I will do everything I can to end their brotherhood. The biggest question for me in this whole thing is how do I get Roman to fall for me if I’m in Drew’s camp? He hates Drew which should, by default, make him dislike and distrust me. I am a little puzzled as to how to overcome that one.” I glanced at my patron as I explained why the heel pairing was due to split up then turned to my boss and queried how she expected me to divorce the tight-knit faction.

“Simple, be sweetly obnoxious when you cannot get close to him, interfere with his fights where you can, and when you are able to approach him be affectionate. Make him question your loyalties. Be apologetic when you trip him or pull him from the ropes. Let him think you are only helping Drew because you have to. It will make him curious and when he talks to you, and he will, you play the sweet girl next door card. He will never see the double-cross coming.” She offered suggestions on how to best handle my primary target and position myself to break his heart.

“Um, shouldn’t I have some loyalty to Drew? I am walking out with him after all.” I questioned her advice, some small piece of it niggling at me.

I yelped a second later as I received a swat on the rear. It appeared that Mark had taken my last query as impertinent.

“She just gave you a variety of suggestions about how to deal with your assignment and you still want more? Hush child and use that quick mind of yours. She never said you were Drew’s girl, did she? She said that you were arriving with him but that does not preclude you from leaving with someone else. The only thing she didn’t touch on is your connection to Drew. What is she? Is she his manager?” He fussed at me for being too lazy to do the mental gymnastics necessary to work out my own answers.

“That is something I hadn’t considered. Maybe a girl he knew growing up in Scotland? Do we have military bases in England? That could account for how they met.” She shrugged, uncertain how to frame things.

“Exchange students that bonded over wrestling and kept in touch?” I threw out an idea. “Or I could learn a Scottish accent. That might be hard to do in a week though.”

“Something tells me you will figure it out and you will land on your feet. Now, here is your main roster contract, your plane ticket, and your hotel reservation. I need the first signed before you can take the other two. You have enough time to go back to your apartment and pack before you head to the airport. Oh, and you can thank my husband for you the travel arrangements, normally we would let you manage that aspect of your life yourself.” She held out a folder as she spoke, the latter comments leaving little doubt as to her displeasure over Hunter’s interference in my life.

I opened the file and set the travel paperwork on the desk so that she could see it. I removed the contract and read through it before I signed anything. It was good for eighteen weekly appearances on RAW and three Pay-Per-View events as well as public signings and speaking events as they became available. There was a clause permitting the company to release me at any time if I did not perform to expectation or failed a drug test or had a breach of the personal conduct policy. I already had my insurance lined up and my medical records were on file downstairs which fulfilled the next clause. The rest detailed how I was to behave, the company’s performance expectations, travel and hotel responsibilities, and at the end, after the portion about my pay, was a clause detailing my inability to discuss Hunter Hurst Helmsley or his role in my life with anyone that did not have prior knowledge or come into said knowledge from a third-party source. I was also precluded from discussing the Undertaker angle until it manifested on screen. I flipped the contract closed, looking at the first page again before I put pen to paper, and searched for one critical detail – My Name. The contract was written as my NXT contract had been – made out to Cailin O’Reilly. This was my dad’s doing unless I missed my guess and the fact that Stephanie hadn’t noticed the lack of Levesque or Helmsley after the O’Reilly meant that rather than write a fresh contract someone in Legal had copied and pasted the majority of my NXT contract and added the necessary clauses to make it applicable to the present. I opened the contract to the last page and signed my birth name with a flourish then closed it, returned the pages to the folder, and handed it to my stepmother. 

“Thank you, ma’am, I will make sure you don’t regret this.” I assured her as I picked up the plane ticket and hotel confirmation from the desk.

I started for the door only to pause as Stephanie pointed to my benefactor and now pseudo-sire and inquire, “What about him?”

“I solemnly swear that I will be the best reincarnation of your legacy possible. I will make the toll of the bell fearsome once more and if talent and fan alike are not excited and terrified of the Kiss of Death well then I guess I will have to drag them to Hell.” I gave her a wicked little smirk as I returned to stand beside Mark for a second.

“There is a training camp in Orlando in a few weeks. I will be helping run it and I will come over to Tampa to check on you at some point, might come sooner since I live down that way. Train hard, learn your lines, and make us both look good. If you don’t meet expectations I will tell Stephanie and she will find another way to accomplish her goals.” He warned me he would be keeping tabs on my progress.

“Yes, sir, I will make you proud, Daddy!” I leaned over and kissed his cheek before padding from the room.

I had lost time to shenanigans designed to prove a point, reading the contract, and a brief lecture. Now I needed to pack and leave before Stephanie changed her mind. Fortunately, my stepmom was busy laughing at the irked expression on Mark’s face as he watched my departure.

“That child will be the bane of the locker room and she’s going to make your life hell especially when Vince finds out.” He cautioned Steph as he stood up.

“I’m counting on it and she’s been doing that for years. Besides, things have been… Tame, I can’t say quiet because of Becky, but I can say tame since you truly retired. This should liven things up a bit!” She walked around the desk to hug the one man that truly terrified her father.

“I’m going to check on her. I check on all the rookies but this one, she’s going to be carrying my name so I will be watching her closer than the others. If she isn’t showing us what we need to see I meant what I said, cut her. I won’t be represented by weakness.” He brooked no nonsense from her and felt her tense.

“I can’t believe I am going to say this but please, relax and give her a chance. I firmly believe she will make this work and you will be pleased with what she’s able to do. I may not be her biggest fan but even I admit the girl is gifted. The only one truly standing in her way is Daddy and frankly, I think he will lose this fight especially with Hunter leading the charge and you backing her.” She promised I was worth the faith they were placing in my abilities, her knowledge of the drive, determination, and will I possessed giving her confidence in my chances to succeed and even greater risk of abject failure.

He nodded and followed the path I had taken a few minutes before. I strode through the halls with their tastefully subtle professional colors and low pile carpet that hushed the click of heels, finding my way to the elevator and riding down to the main floor to depart the building. Before the meeting, I had put my bag into my vehicle and I was grateful for the foresight I’d had as Steph had kept me a bit longer than I would have liked. Now as I climbed into my blue Honda Civic and dropped it in reverse I tried to control the shaking of my hands and hoped I could get back to my apartment safely. I was in shock, unable to believe I had been given a role, I’d been adopted, and a legacy hung from my shoulders. The least bothersome but oddest aspect of the whole situation was that I’d obtained a twin at my own behest. Everything had been turned on its head quickly and it all hung from a gossamer thread called results and I knew beyond all doubts that if I didn’t give Stephanie what she wanted I would lose everything.


	2. From the Frying Pan in to the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the same day as Chapter One and the day that follows, Cailin makes the transition from Connecticut to Florida to begin training with her new team. She's met by Hunter and she meets her new coworkers and drama ensues. Can she handle life at the top of the fight card or will she crash and burn?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be a bit dry compared with the first chapter but please keep reading, it does get better.

CHAPTER TWO  
I checked the time as I pulled out of the parking lot and used the hands-free option in my vehicle to call my dad’s cell phone. He picked up on the first ring because he knew my schedule, where I should have been at the moment, and assumed something was wrong. We talked as I drove, my voice trembling as I filled him in on the meeting with his wife and how the interaction had gone, something I had been taught to do as a child. I kept some of the details to myself as Stephanie had been instructed and others I glossed over to avoid causing a fight between my dad and his wife, well aware that she had set me up to fail. He could tell by my tone I had a lot on my mind as I thought about how much work was ahead of me, the repercussions to my career and those of the men I would be working with, and how hurt my dad would be if I failed on such a grand scale. He didn’t pry as we talked, letting the details, my fears, and the potential triumphs unfold during the natural course of the discussion and I was grateful for his patience while I verbally worked through my stress. The conversation wound down and I reminded him that I loved him as I pulled in to the parking lot outside my apartment building and found a space. 

He returned the sentiment and rang off as I parked and walked in to the lobby, the apartment disguised like a hotel to the unsuspecting passerby but with better amenities like a full laundry service and a massive gym in the basement. The company contracted with them to house all of the visiting talent, training camp candidates, and even some of the staff who traveled frequently between offices. This provided the residents a safe, rent controlled residence for the duration of their stay in an area of the country where many of us couldn’t have afforded to live otherwise. I crossed the lobby, waving at Grace, the day manager who was in her fifties, Asian, and about the nicest lady I’d ever met. She looked befuddled but waved back as I disappeared down the hall toward the lifts, surprised that I had come back from practice early and confused by the clothes I wore. It was a short ride to the third floor and a brisk walk to the suite of rooms I shared with two other ladies I worked with in NXT. Mandy, a senior rookie with raven hair and a wicked sense of humor that she blamed on her mixed German and Korean heritage, went by the name Savannah and I had left her at the training center when I had been pulled from the day’s activities. She wouldn’t be home for a few hours and our other roommate, Sarah, was on vacation before she took her blonde hair and twinkling Mediterranean blue eyes to SmackDown Live as Mercy, and truthfully I admitted I would miss her sunny personality. I hoped Mandy would move with her and be her tag team partner but I suspected she would end up in Two-Oh-Five Live first. 

I hunted for and found a piece of paper that I split in half and I wrote a note for both women explaining I had been transferred to Tampa and promised to see them soon. I left the notes on the counter and went to my room to pack, the majority of my things traveling with me on the plane. I had a few personal belongings that I wanted shipped to my hotel rather than tempt fate and the delicate mercies of the TSA employees who would handle my baggage and those would need to be boxed up before I left. I pulled out my large suitcase and began to layer my clothing in to it, finding that the majority of my wardrobe fit in to the single bag. My toiletries, makeup, appliances, and ring gear went in their usual transport, a large purple trunk with silver accents that had sliding shelves on one side and a slatted bar for hanging things on the other. The remaining times filled a small box with the few personal things I kept with me and those would need to be shipped and I set the box aside to pack my carry-on, the bag filled with my laptop, chargers, phone, and a book.

I called Hunter back and asked him about shipping my car to Tampa, wanting a way to get around that didn’t involve Uber, taxis and company cars. He said he would store it at the New York condo for me and bring the box the following week if I would bring him my keys and I agreed, sighing, and he asked what was wrong. He laughed when I explained I had wanted the vehicle to get around and assured me I wouldn’t need it, and he promised to make sure I would have transport available for my daily schedule which was filled with classes and training. I sighed again and shook my head, thanking him for storing the car and bringing me my things, sending him love and ringing off to finish my packing and cleaning before I had to catch my flight. I knew that if he had planned my training schedule I would be continuing my ballet, gymnastics, and wrestling training and whatever cardio he thought would be helpful. I put the last couple of items of importance in the box to be shipped, a pair of urns containing my parent’s ashes, and closed it, taping it shut and praying everything inside made it safely to Florida. Packing complete I swept and vacuumed my bedroom, changed the sheets, and wiped down all of the furniture in the room. 

I put the trash in the bin and carried all of my luggage in to the living room and looked around. I knew if I left the fridge to Sarah and Mandy it wouldn’t get cleaned out for weeks and I chose to spend a few minutes emptying all of the old takeout boxes and out of date food we had cooked before it became a habitat for penicillin. I left a sticky note on the fridge for Mandy that said ‘Trash!’ to remind her to take out the garbage and sighed, knowing she would probably forget and leave it until Sarah got home in a couple of days. I wiped down the shelves and put a fresh box of baking soda inside then closed it and touched the stainless-steel surface for a moment, realizing that I was going to miss being in this apartment with these two wonderfully sweet women who had become like sisters to me. This had been my sanctuary for the last six month and it was bitter sweet to be leaving it behind. I pulled the trunk and suitcase to the elevator, box stacked carefully on top o the trunk, and rode down to the main floor. I stopped by the desk to turn in my key and thank Grace for the wonderful hospitality of the building and its occupants. She hugged me goodbye and wished me luck in my future endeavors, her hand closing around the key as she waved, a sad smile on her face.  
I tried not to cry as I exited the lobby, a large black SUV with deeply tinted window waiting in front of the doors when I walked out, and I sighed, resigning myself to weeks of riding in company vehicles like this one. I left my luggage with the driver while I carried the box to my car and placed it in the trunk, locking up behind me. I knew that Hunter or my trainer, Shawn, would pick up the vehicle in the next seventy-two hours and take it in to New York City where Hunter kept the condo I had grown up in and they would park it in the garage there for safe keeping and I would have the box by week’s end. I walked back to the SUV and the dad bod in a suit and shades opened a rear passenger door for me to climb in.. I made sure to smooth my skirt under my rear as I sat down on the leather seats and got comfortable, all too used to vehicles like this and the luxury provided by the manufacturer. Once I was inside he shut the portal and walked around to climb in to the driver’s seat and he set the vehicle in motion, turning the SUV toward LaGuardia International Airport, ninety-minute journey that would take us through Manhattan and down in to Queens. I sat in silent reflection of my morning and the unexpected turn of events as we rode through the crowded interstates and used the landmarks outside my window to mark the passage of time and distance, catching my driver peeking at me with curiosity and concern in his eyes, and I tried not to laugh at his befuddled expression, attributing it to the lack of electronic device in my hand.

He would have been shocked to learn I had no one to call even if I had felt like talking to anyone. The handful of people from NXT that I had become comfortable with had seen me leave practice and not return and I knew they were midway through their workout. I didn’t want to bother them or get them in trouble by calling and my promotion to the main roster would be announced by Mandy that evening when she got my note, the distraction of pondering their future and when they would get called up putting them at risk of being injured. I was hopeful for many of them, wanting them to succeed because I liked them and could see their talent but also because I didn’t want to be alone, something I conceded to as I sighed and peered around at the passing scenery, knowing it was already too late to avoid that outcome. Left alone with my thoughts I allowed myself to consider each of the men I would be working with, what I knew about them, and how they came off in the ring, the rumors I had heard about some of them making me nervous about stepping foot in the gym with them. It was a huge challenge to take on four well established wrestlers of their caliber and work them, one that I felt certain I would fail at and I suspected that had been Stephanie’s purpose in assigning me this task. I would have continued to dissect the interaction, the men, and the possible futures but I felt the changes in the vehicles speeds and realized we were through Manhattan and nearing the airport.

I had become lost in thought, the changing scenery my only indicator of the passage of time, and my driver, adept at his job, had gotten us to the airport sooner than I had anticipated. The shifts from suburbia to the towering sky scrapers back in to blocks of single family residential bliss then to strips of commercial buildings with their bright signs and flashy deals that gave way to the stark drabness of he commercial fulfillment centers and warehouses of the industrial districts that huddled around the terminal should have clued me in to our arrival but it wasn’t until I felt the vehicle slow to approach the airport, the zigging and zagging as he jockeyed for a position near the curb that I realized where we were. He parked near the doors to my airline before the fog truly lifted and I checked my phone for the time, realizing I was going to squeak on to my flight if I could get through TSA quickly. I glance around, realized where he had stopped the SUV, and had a moment of gratitude that he had shortened my walk with the lugged I needed to check. Flying solo meant I was taking a commercial flight and I had to collect my boarding pass and check my bags before I could make the dash through the terminal to my gate. I heard the door slam as my driver got out and came around to open the rear of the vehicle and the curbside portal for me. I attempted to alight gracefully alight from the vehicle and he handed me the carry-on first and I gave him a tip, thanking him for getting us there swiftly and safely as he set my bag and trunk on the curb. I grabbed the handles of my luggage and pulled both pieces inside, making the short walk to the cue for boarding passes and baggage check.

It didn’t take long to turn over my bags and collect my boarding pass, a couple of people in line ahead of me at the computers and they finished within minutes of each other. Hunter had paid for everything in advance, his meticulous calculations having the weight of my bags within five pounds, and the lady behind the counter shooed me toward the gate with a comment about the plane being a few minutes away from beginning the boarding process. I thanked her and trotted toward the TSA cue at a clip, boarding pass and ID in hand as I joined the shortest line possible and threaded my way through the stanchion ropes until I was able to begin the screening process. I moseyed through the line as it bogged down at the ID check and again at the scanner, waiting my turn for an unnecessary dose of radiation to prove I wasn’t carrying a bomb or a firearm. It took longer to get my bag back from the carry-on scan than it had it had to go through the violation of my person and I feared I would miss my flight. I gathered up my belongings and began walking through the terminal as I shoved devices in my bag. I had to stop and pull my shoes from the compartment where I had shoved them, unbuckling them as I strode toward my gate and stopping to put them on and buckle the straps to the heels before I could resume the speedy trot carrying me down the long corridor toward where my flight boarded. I approached the gate and heard them make the last call for boarding, names being called to remind the passengers they were on this flight, and picked up my pace and I was one of several people to scoot in to the check-in line, presenting my pass and ID before being waved down the gangway. A handful of people followed me down the passage and we strode toward the plane, a heavy thump of the door between the gangway and the terminal closing with a final sound that goaded us to move faster. We lengthened our strides and entered the cabin of the plane at a clip, the flight attendant that greeted us chuckling as she assured us we had plenty of time and encouraged us to find our seats. I glanced up the aisle and saw that the other passengers were still stowing bags and settling in and breathed a little easier. I made my way to my seat slowly, waiting on people as they put bags in the overhead bins, removed their jackets, and sat down to make themselves comfortable and I was able to scoot passed them. 

Once I found my seat I shoved my carry-on under the seat in front of me and sat down, buckling up and taking a minute to catch my breath. The man next to me glanced up then gave me a once over as I settled in and grinned, eyes straying to more intimate areas a few times as he appreciated what he saw in a less than subtle way. I ignored him and leaned forward to snag my bag and fish my phone from its depths, snaring my earbuds in the process, and dumped the tangled mess in my lap. I felt the plane push back from the terminal as I untwisted my earbuds and put the plastic pieces in my ears, searching for an internet connection as we began to taxi toward the runway. Again, Hunter had looked out for me, providing access to the on-board Wi-Fi as well as the company’s online network and I grinned, able to look at every show the WWE had ever produced in its multi-decade history. I sat back to watch videos of my targets and opened one fight after the next, watching them in their entirety, finishing three before we rumbled down the tarmac and gained the speed necessary to lift from the ground, nose to the sky. I popped my ears and moved on to the next bout, hardly bothered by the changes in air pressure as I studied the catalog of work belonging to the men I had been assigned to work with, searching for hints of weakness, cracks in their facades, any clue on how to achieve my goal beyond what Stephanie had given me. For three hours I skimmed film, ignoring everything around me, determined to find anything useful that would give me insight in to the dynamics of each group, the characters, and their feuds. I felt something brush my arm and looked up for a second, realizing the man beside me had leaned over a little too far while trying to peek down my blouse and had jerked back as I glanced up. He grinned at me, showing no remorse for being caught doing something inappropriate, and I responded by buttoning my blouse to my throat and glaring at him before returning my attention to the video I had been watching. I didn’t see the scowl he sent my way or the manner in which he huffed and flopped back in his seat like a petulant child. I wouldn’t have been interested even if I had witnessed it, my lack of patience for rude people notorious among the people I worked with. My focus was on my phone, the video playing on my screen giving me information I desperately needed. The longer I watched the more my theory on Dolph and Drew proved correct, they were prime for separation and it wouldn’t take much to break up their partnership.

The hard part was Seth, Dean, and Roman, as I had anticipated, and with the additions of Finn and AJ they were appearing more like a five-man faction than a three-man squad of friends. That changed how I viewed the situation until I realized that all five men had similar weaknesses – their family and their drive to be the best. It was the clue I had been searching for, that moment when Drew said something off color about Roman’s family and Roman flattened him in retaliation. Talent had access to audio that the fans didn’t, the mics on the cameras strong enough to pick up every word said in the ring while it was filtered from the televised feed by the production truck and routed to a recording for the athletes and management to study at their leisure. I rewound the video and watched again and again as Drew said the wrong thing and there was a pause of a second or two as the words sank in and Roman scowled then punched Drew fully in the face with a closed fist. I blinked the first couple of times as Drew hit the mat, stunned, and took his time getting up again, the breach of protocol only obvious to those who knew the game. I realized I needed to replicate similar emotional responses in the men but direct that energy inward at the group rather than outward to their opponents to obtain the fractures I needed then I could throw a proverbial stick of dynamite in to the fray and watch the whole thing implode like a scheduled demolition. The next step was figuring out how to turn Roman’s head and still land on my feet after I broke his heart. Emotions were a tricky thing and I was dreading this aspect of my assignment even more than the breakups, not wanting to tangle my own emotions in the web I was about to weave.

I had a plan forming, ideas about annexing each man and questioning their role within the group, and a theory for dealing with Roman that would have him believing I was the only partner he would need, could trust, and when it was all in play stab him in the back, ending our relationship and breaking his heart building as I watched film and observed their reactions and responses to various situations they found themselves in. I felt my ears pop and the descent begin, Tampa beginning to loom outside our windows as we angled toward it in slow, lazy loops. I closed the network app for a minute and opened the company email program to send Stephanie a short missive. While I knew much of the coming weeks hinged on how Creative opted to handle things I wanted to influence those ideas and the storyline from the outset if at all possible. I smirked as I wrote, not caring who caw, and when I finished I hit send, the ideas and plans I enclosed in the note in my boss detailing how I wanted things to be addressed by Creative. I did not expect a reply but as the wheels touched down and the brakes engaged I felt my phone buzz, holding it up as I braced myself with my legs, and saw that I had a response, a single line making me grin as I read ‘Darling, I think my evil is rubbing off on you, I will pass this along!’ and took it to mean she liked what I had presented her with. Encouraged and a bit hopeful I opened the app again and resumed my film study, garnering any additional knowledge of the dynamics between the pairings as we taxied to our gate. 

Learning that Seth had betrayed Roman and Dean before, selling out to management for career advancement, beating both of his brothers with a chair, gave me ideas and added further fuel to the creative fire. Dean’s betrayal of Seth was the icing on the cake, and I knew that the group was not as indestructible as they would have everyone believe. If they had been enemies before I knew that I could push them in that direction again, make them question if they could truly trust each other, and by playing them against each other I could leave their brotherhood in tatters and ash while I danced in the flames. The romance and intrigue would keep the fans coming back and begging for more as long as we presented it well and I didn’t lose myself to the story. I knew that I had to keep my head on straight while playing this role and leave my emotions out of things or I would fail, and I couldn’t afford that. I knew from experience that the emotional aspect was where things got messy and I shuddered, thinking about how badly things could end when hearts got involved. This raised a new question, one I hadn’t encountered before, and I turned to the one person that could answer it. Another email to Steph, this time inquiring if the role was only on set and in the ring or if I carried it to the gym week after week was a question I never thought I would ask. I knew that in public we were always our characters but this one had a new life on the main roster, and unless I was carrying over what I had built in NXT, she wasn’t fleshed out well, and I felt I had no real structure to work with. I typed as I walked up the gangway to the terminal and tried to finish it before we got to the baggage claim, but it wasn’t easy to stride and touch keys at the same time, people jostling me as they rushed to their next flight or to find their luggage. I hit send as I rode down the escalator to the baggage claim area and glanced around for the person that was supposed to drive me to the hotel. I saw no one with a sign bearing a name I recognized, and I shrugged, ambling toward the carousel that was assigned to my flight. 

I stood with everyone else, waiting on our luggage to come up from the plane, watching for my bagged and listening for any indication of a reply from Steph. I observed the people around me while I waited, feeling inane for having asked a question that struck me as ridiculous but when it came to this version of ‘Morgan’ I was lost, uncertain who she was in this new world. She had the potential to be different from ‘Morgan’, my NXT alter ego which was a fully realized character with a personality I could don as easily as one pulled on a coat, familiar and with the quirks and ticks that made her uniquely alive. Now as I waited I considered all the possible answers I would receive from my stepmother, how they would affect my handling of the character going forward, and even how I planned to bring this new iteration of the Undertaker to life. Morgan had some of the characteristics he was looking for and part of me wished I would be able to bring her forward in to this new setting. It was a bit depressing to consider having to say goodbye to something I had worked so hard to build but that was the nature of the business and you got used to it after a while. I was still thinking about outcomes when I heard my phone ding, the faint chime telling me that someone had messaged me. I considered not opening it but I knew that if it was work I would need to acknowledge the reply and truthfully I would chafe mentally if I didn’t read it. I sighed and pulled my phone from my bag and opened the missive, expecting it to be derisive and short but I was surprised by what I got instead.

‘I understand your confusion and trepidation about playing this character. It isn’t easy to know where you stop and they begin until you have had some time in their skin. Learn to keep the two personalities separated if you can, treat them like a pair of people living comfortably side by side in a duplex, neighbors yet comfortably ignorant of each other inside your head. You are and are not your character, more so in public than in private. She needs to be an aspect of who you are and yet separate like a comfortable jacket you can slip on easily. I think the best way to make that happen is to let you continue to be the Morgan you were in NXT and make adjustments as necessary.  
As far as external relationships go, I recommend you tread lightly, or you may begin to have trouble differentiating between the character’s reality and your own. Until you are comfortable as Morgan in this role and can differentiate between the guys and their characters I would suggest you take your time and develop your knowledge of both sides of who they are and how they interact with you and Morgan. On set go slow and let nature take its course, don’t force it. Outside the arena if you were asking me about who to cultivate a relationship with I would suggest Joe. He’s recently divorced, settling back in to single life, and looking to start dating again. He and the ex were together a while and he’s got kids so there is baggage, but he also knows what it takes to make a relationship work. Colby hasn’t had the best track record with women, cheating on four of his five girlfriends, often with the next woman, and you know how poorly Becky took that. Nick isn’t a whole lot better so you might want to avoid that entirely. Finn is happy in his relationship and Drew, AJ and Jon are married. Please, be careful of the sexual aspect in and out the ring and be thinking about how it will look to the kids. Oh, and do not mention anything about Hunter or the Undertaker!! As far as the guys know you are the lucky call up from NXT we felt was ready to take on this role until they learn otherwise. Focus on your job, that is your priority.’

I read the email twice, not certain how she had gotten the need for dating advice out of my struggle with how to play the character, but it made me smile to know she was signing off on a potential relationship. I sighed and sent her a reply, thanking her for allowing me to continue to be Morgan, and added that I thought playing her in this role would be easier than coming up with an entirely new concept, my alter ego being a second skin for me. I locked my screen and turned my attention to the bags that had begun to fill the carousel and I spied my luggage, pulling the bag and trunk from the belt and standing them up while I shoved my phone in my carry-on. I grabbed the handles of my bags and started toward the doors, searching for my driver but I still didn’t see anyone with a name placard I recognized. The bagged claim area was large and I thought perhaps I had missed them on my way down the escalator so I made a loop of the room but no one stuck out. I shrugged and considered that there might be a company car outside and pulled my bags toward the doors, stepping out in to the humid heat of Florida in the summer. I walked down the sidewalk about twenty feet and spied a familiar frame leaning against a Lincoln Town Car and strode over to pause on the curb beside the vehicle. I grinned as the tanned, muscular man with the shaved head and a full blond beard smiled at me, pushing away from the car to join me on the sidewalk.  
“Hello little one, I am glad to see you came!” He grinned at the double entendre as he motioned for the trunk.

“Hello, sir, it is good to see you too. Yes, my flight was lovely, thank you.” I replied, playing with my words as he appeared wont to do and I heard him chuckle as he grabbed the large suitcase and it followed the trunk in to the rear of the car and he slammed the lid.  
“Get in!” He motioned toward the front passenger door and I laughed.

I slid in to the seat and a minute later he sat down in the driver’s seat. He looked over my outfit and chuckled as he started the car.

“I hope you aren’t planning to dress like that tomorrow. I may have to call that charm school and ask for my money back!” He teased as he eased the large car in to traffic.

“No, I had planned to go naked.” I quipped back then laughed. “My gym clothes are in my bag in the back. I wore this for my meeting with your wife, hence the reason I am here. I am guessing it went well?” I explained the skirt, blouse, hose, and heels.

“Well if you are here then I would say yes, it went well. You were vague on the phone which told me you were still processing what happened. Now that you have had a few minutes to think about it would you care to fill me in?” He confirmed my suspicions then reminded me that I hadn’t given him straight answers when we had talked earlier, leaving much to be inferred.

“I assumed that you knew what was going on. Creative and Talent are your responsibilities.” I glanced at him momentarily before resuming my study of the city as he shook his head. “Oh. I figure Steph would have run this passed you for approval and filled you in again once it was set in stone. I guess not. Well, the short version is I have been adopted, I have been assigned to break up the Dolph and Drew pairing as well as SHIELD, and I am training toward my first main roster fight in six weeks.” I filled him in on what had transpired in my meeting with Stephanie.

“And just who adopted my daughter?” He growled, not amused by this and wanting to know whose head needed to be caved in.

“I am not allowed to say, and before you get mad at me, Stephanie is the one that forbade me from telling. Again, I thought you knew since this is your bailiwick. I’m sure she will fill you in when you talk next.” I stonewalled him on Steph’s orders, something that surprised him and only added to his irritation.

“Cailin, it is my job to know about every change to Talent, any modifications to Creative, and this isn’t something I wasn’t aware of. I can’t protect and develop either one if things are kept from me. Now, you need to tell me what happened.” He growled at me, prying for in formation neither of which he did routinely, and I knew he had been kept out of Stephanie’s decision-making process entirely. 

“You need to call her. I will let her explain what she’s done since I’m guessing she’s gone rogue on this one. I’m kind of caught in the middle now because I was following her instructions. I’m sorry.” I held up my hands in a position of surrender but refused to let him take his frustrations out on me.

He glowered at me as he placed a call to his wife through the car’s hands-free speaker and she picked up on the first ring. He casually mentioned he’d found a stray waif at the airport and questioned why she would be there when she was supposed to be at the training center in Connecticut. I could almost see Steph pause and look at her phone before she cheerfully replied that she was glad he’d picked me up, the need for a ride having completely slipped her mind. She answered the inquiry about my presence by filling him in on our meeting while deftly avoiding the topic of my adoption until he asked about it point blank and she informed him that he would learn about my adoptive family when everyone else did. This was not the answer he wanted, and he began to argue with her as he pulled in to the hotel parking lot. I sat silently while the rowed, the debate over the topic and his job and place in the company a short one when she ended it by promising that everything I was involved in would benefit my career and had the full backing of the rest of management. He sighed and said he loved her, and she echoed the sentiment before ringing off. He contemplated my features as I tried not to smirk at him and shook his head, surprised and oddly frustrated by my cooperation with his wife.

“This is a day I never thought I would see. Fine, I will let you two have this secret, it is probably one of the only ones you will ever share. I suppose we will learn all about this adoption soon enough. Now, let’s get you checked in, we have dinner plans at six and after that you need some rest. Practice starts at six-thirty and you will want breakfast beforehand. I will take you to the gym and I can stay if you want. If you can’t get the choreography let me know, I will help you. Shawn should be in later tonight, he’s moved your car for you, you didn't mention he had the spare key, and he will work with you on the days the guys are out of town performing in the house shows.” He rubbed his neck, stunned and frustrated but without a solution in sight.

I snorted, putting my hand on his shoulder as I smirked, “Have trouble with choreography? How long have I been doing this? How long have I been dancing? Don’t count me out until you work with me!”

His expression was dubious as he studiously examined my face, searching for a nonexistent lie. “Okay, baby girl, if you think you can handle this I will give you a chance.”

“Thank you! Now, can we please go inside? I don’t want people getting the wrong impression.” I inquired, feeling a bit silly and a tad conspicuous as we sat in the car talking.

We reached for the door handles and let the portals open. He climbed out and headed to the trunk while I grabbed my carry-on then slid from the seat, rising as gracefully as possible. I joined Hunter at the rear of the vehicle and waited while he pulled the trunk with my ring gear from the compartment. I pulled the suitcase and would have taken the trunk also but he slammed the lid and strode toward the hotel. We strolled through the lobby, not stopping at the check in desk and wile we waited for the elevators to arrive he handed me a room key with a knowing look. While we waited I glanced around and made a disappointed sound. The higher end hotel chain was known for its comfort and the interior design team for this one had decorated the lobby with scatterings of plush furniture in muted tones, tile and paint on the wall reflecting the hues of the furniture, and the understated light fixtures were about as exciting as the white marble floors with their faint gray veining. While I appreciated their attempt at making the space cozy and inviting I felt that they had missed the mark, the subtle warmth almost insulting rather than welcoming. Utilization of some wood and metal accents and slight darker tones would have provided the homelike feel necessary to make it truly cozy and a handful of conversations pieces would have broken up the monotony of the art that was on display. Seeing their choices of floral arrangements in various stages of slow decay and gradual accumulation of dust made me question their design team’s choice of aesthetic versus other hotels I had stayed in. It was a little depressing and I was uncertain I could handle six weeks in this place if that was what I had to look at every day, warmth and comfort something I needed in my living space.

I was drug from my musing about hotel interior design by the ding of the elevator and Hunter starting toward an empty car. I followed him in to the lift and we stood quietly to one side as a few other guests stepped in to the car. Floors were requested in polite tones, buttons were pushed, and the car rose in to the hair, silent as we waited for the others to vacate the elevator until only Hunter and I remained, silent as the car went up another floor to our landing. The doors opened on the fifth floor and he led me through the halls to show me our rooms, side by side, and motioned for me to open the door to my suite. I swiped the card and he pushed the door open for me, holding it while I pulled my bag inside then followed me inside with my trunk and let the entry close. He waited on the couch while I turned on lights and pulled the suitcase in to my bedroom, my carry-on abandoned on the chair. I made short work of unpacking my clothing and returned to the living room for my trunk, dragging it in to the bedroom to hang up my ring gear and dress clothing in the closet. I checked on my appliances, toiletries, and makeup but everything was intact and exactly where I had packed it. I turned back to my closet and considered what to wear but I hesitated to pull anything specific since Hunter hadn’t mentioned a destination for dinner. 

I padded back to the living room to ask about our evening plans and was stymied by a knock at the door. He stood up and crossed the room to open the door as I paused by the bathroom and watched him let a hotel steward in to the room. The steward pushed a cart in to the room and placed two cloche covered plates and a bottle of the rose kept chilled to the proper temperature on the table and presented Hunter with a book containing his tab. I inclined my head to my dad in thanks while he signed the slip and added a gratuity for the young man, closing the door behind him after he’d pushed the cart out. Once the steward was gone I checked my watch and laughed, it was six o’clock on the nose and we were sitting down to eat as I placed a pair of glasses from the kitchenette on the table and poured the wine. Hunter joined me at the table and we lifted the covers on our plates to find matching meals of steak, still bloody when we cut them, a baked potato smothered in toppings, and a mountain of seasonal vegetables beside them. It was a favorite meal of ours and we ate in silence, the course interrupted for a second when I popped up to grab my tablet from my carry-on bag and plop down across from my dad a second time. I opened a blank document and cataloged all of the ideas and thoughts I’d shared with Stephanie earlier, expanding them and adding to the compilation of suggestions. When I had finished eating and taking notes I showed the list to my dad and watched his expression as he read my musings.

“You have spent too much time around my wife. Some of this is downright evil, but despite that you are spot on in this and I applaud your insight. I can see that you have done your research. The real question is if Creative will use any of this and if they do, how will they use it?” He pointed out the one glitch I had in all of the work I had put together.

“I know and that is the part that concerns me most. In NXT I knew where I began and Morgan stopped but with this… I mean I get to keep the name and she says I get to maintain the personality of the character but for how long? I had to ask her about the balance of private and public because the script is all I have and there isn’t much there. I’m a distraction. What does that mean? I feel dumb for needing to ask after all these years, but I needed to know how much of Morgan is truly available and how much is going to need to be altered to fit this role, and where Morgan stops, and I can be myself again.” I sighed and explained the later notes in the document.

“Sweetheart, I think in this case you are going to have to balance who Morgan is with how Creative writes her. I know that balancing two personalities can be precarious especially at this level, but it is something you have managed well up to this point and will continue to handle with aplomb. You will learn when you have to be Morgan, which will be much of your time in public, and when you can set your character aside and be yourself. You already know that doing the little things from day to day and week to week means when the big scenes come, the huge brawl breaks out, you are ready, and the audience believes the story because the foundation has been laid. Start simple by being a pest at ringside to get his attention, flirt and have short interactions with him in front of the camera, and between reps during your workout ask how he views thing. When you interact with the others drop hints and subtle inferences to keep them off balance and questioning their relationships. Between your work in the gym and on the screen and Creative it will sort itself out. Just remember to stay near your script as much as you can, nothing drives Vince crazier than when talent goes off script.” He grinned and gave me advice, knowing that when I had this character sorted out and got comfortable in her skin I would create chaos, and he chuckled at the mental images he conjured of the men I would be working with trying to deal with my version of wrestling.

“Thank you, Daddy.” I appreciated the insight as always and knew he was right; I would find the balance between the two personalities I was being asked to embody.

“Okay, I need to go pick up Uncle Shawn in a few minutes and you need to rest. You have had a long day, and this will be a longer week than you are used to. Let’s clean up and you can enjoy the evening, it will probably be one of your last quiet nights alone.” He smiled as he stood up and began to clean up his dishes.

We made short work of cleaning up and setting the empty dishes outside my door to be picked up by the hotel staff. Instead of leaving I convinced him to stay for a bit, conversing for a half hour about my future in the company and how he saw the story I was engaged in playing out. In talking to my dad I learned that he and Steph had been having issues, agreeing to see other people while they tried to sort out their relationships, and Joe had been her latest sexual interest. He has spurned her advances, refusing to date a married woman for professional and personal reasons, and she had sworn revenge. The intention to ruin his faction while I broke his heart appeared to be her plan to carry out this threat and suddenly my call up made more sense, the double-edged blade of vengeance Stephanie wielded meant to wound me as well. Checking his watch, he stood up to leave and he joked that I would make him late for his own funeral and I laughed, hugging him, and promised to delay his death for days, weeks, months, or even years if it meant my children got to spend countless hours making memories with their Pawpaw Paul. This insinuation brought up a game we had been playing for the last couple of months and he squeezed me hard and warned me there had better not be any grandchildren for a while, reminded me he wasn’t old enough to be a grandfather yet, and swore he would chase away any suitor I had which made me giggle and I snuggled in to his chest for a minute. I hadn’t gotten to spend as much time with him as I would have liked in the last few years and I had missed him. School, my training, his work, our wrestling careers, and our family kept him and I apart as we pursued all that life threw at us. For this evening, and I hoped more to come, we were together, and I enjoyed having him to myself. I knew from the way he squeezed me firmly that he was concerned about this new venture, but I had picked up in his pride and excitement as we had talked, saw how much he truly believed I deserved this opportunity even if it was meant to hurt me.

“I will see you in the morning. Oh, and pack for ballet and gymnastics, you have classes after practice. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of maintaining your training schedule.” He kissed my forehead as he made to depart. 

“Thank you, and I will be the best dancer and gymnast in the room. I will see you at breakfast.” I gave him a smirk and I used my sassy little girl tone in retort, and he laughed.

I locked up after he left and turned off the lights in the living room. It wasn’t late per se but I had been awake and moving for hours and the combined physical and emotional stresses were beginning to catch up with me. I padded to the bathroom and went through my nightly routine while I made a list of everything I would need to pack for the next day. I walked to the bedroom and began to pick out what I would wear to the gym, to dance, and to gymnastics the following day, my dresser drawers open to allow me to peruse my collection of clothes. I was glad I had packed my entire wardrobe and not just my gym clothes when I had moved from Connecticut, the clothes I used for ballet and gymnastics limited due to necessity, my weekend classes precluding a need for an extensive wardrobe for either. Thankfully I had enough clothes to get me through two weeks of classes and workouts as well as casual clothes and dress clothes for my evenings out with Hunter, my pending schedule hinting that I may not have time to do laundry on a consistent basis. I pulled two different leotards, tights, shorts, pants, two shirts, and a sports bra from the dresser, pushed the drawer closed, and put the clothes on the bed. Beside the pile I added my shoe bag with had my soft canvas dance shoes, pointe shoes, and gym shoes inside and padded to my closet and pulled out my medium gym bag and my empty water bottle from the bottom of my trunk. The shoes and clothes for my classes went in to the bag, the gym clothes went in to the bathroom along with a pair of panties and the sports bra, and I carried the duffle to the front door, leaving it beside the entrance for easy pick up on the way to breakfast in the morning. I added my wallet, room key, and a charger for my cell phone to the bag, filled my water bottle and set it in the end pouch, making sure it stayed upright, and snagged my tablet as I ambled back to the bedroom.

I curled up in a chair in the sitting area by the window and set my tablet on my lap, opening the network app to review more footage of my quarry until I yawned one time too many and decided to close the device and put it on the charger. I crossed the room to slide between the sheets and was asleep a minute later. The chirp of my alarm startled me out of a deep sleep and for a minute I considered launching my phone across the room but instead I grabbed my device and shuffled to the bathroom, starting my shower and brushed my teeth while I waited on the water to heat up. I shed my clothes and showered quickly, dressing and doing my hair and makeup hastily. The dirty clothes went in a laundry bag, the makeup bag went in the duffle, and I shoved my feet in flip flops while slinging the bag over my shoulder and I walked out the door. I strolled through the halls to the elevator and waited a minute or two for the car to arrive from the main floor and another pair to ride down to the lobby. As the doors started to shut a hand caught them and a pair of men, one a bottle blond with his shoulder length hair pulled back in short ponytail, one brunet with a frizzy manbun, stepped on and glanced at the button I had pushed then at me. I ignored them as casually as possible, pretending I didn’t notice when they looked me up and down. The lift went straight to the main floor and they waited or me to step out of the car, giving my posterior similar attention to what they had given my front, and they nudged each other with mutual grins. I went in search of Hunter while they went in the direction of the lobby, I assumed to find breakfast somewhere else. I knew who they were and that they were in for a rude awakening when I turned up at the gym in a little while. 

The hotel didn’t begin buffet breakfast service but their restaurant was open and Hunter was seated at a table reading a newspaper when I arrived, coffee in front of him and a mug of tea waiting in front of my seat. Shawn, his best friend sat beside him, and as I sat down and put my bag on the floor covered plates appeared in front of us. Shawn leaned over to kiss my cheek and Hunter gave me his routine ‘you’re late’ look but I was five minutes ahead of his projected arrival time and I smirked, knowing they had bet on it and Shawn had won. We uncovered our plates and began to eat, talking about my new venture between bites and Hunter had a momentary flash of realization and reached in to his jacket pocket to pull out a handful of pages rolled up to fit in to his pocket. It was the latest script and I read through it with a blend of relief and disappointment, my role having been adjusted for Morgan’s personality while the lines I had were minimal. I pointed this out and they both shrugged, claiming Creative had their reasons.

“It means you get to work whatever opportunities and angles they give you. It also means you are less limited in the ring.” Hunter pointed out with a chuckle.

“We know you and we have seen what you are capable of. This shouldn’t impair you in the slightest, and frankly, you have worked with less. You could go months without a script and still do better promos off the cuff and have better fights than two-thirds of any of the talent the company owns across all the brands. You are using that as a crutch because you are feeling insecure and you know that won’t fly with us.” Shawn shook his head as he called me out and laughed.

I shrugged and went back to eating, pretending not to notice the look they exchanged.

“You do realize they aren’t going to play nice, right? You are being asked to keep up with the big boys and work at their level. You are being put in to a group of elite talent and being asked to match them, that is high praise for your abilities. Stephanie and Vince have long espoused that, aside from Ronda, Charlotte was the only woman on any roster ready to do something like this. We stopped doing this type of wrestling, what almost twenty years ago? It was the start of the Diva’s era. You are the first one since then we have given this kind of role to and you are going to set the bar for every other woman that thinks she can keep up with the men. Sure, Nia has done some small stuff, but it never ended well, and we have kept the Mix Match Challenge separated for a reason. If you can’t keep up they aren’t going to wait for you to get it nor are they going to coach you. You have to sell this from day one. Are you sure you are up to this?” Hunter cautioned me out of concern and added a little history for perspective before double checking that I was able to go toe to toe with the likes of Drew and Seth.

“I’ve got this, I promise. You won’t be disappointed, Daddy. Uncle Shawn has done an excellent job of training me and I fought guys in NXT, beat them most of the time even, and I am not fighting all of these men, I’m just teasing Roman. I will be fine, I promise!” I cajoled him sweetly, setting down my fork as I defended myself.

“I know you won’t baby girl, but I have to say it because we both know what is at stake. It isn’t just about failure; it is about safety too and that is more important. None of us want to see you in the hospital because of a bump gone bad. If anything happened to you…” He started off stern but finished with his true concern, a hint of tears in his words.

“I know the risks, I do, but you have to trust that I can hold my own. I have trained for this, fought for it and I will do my best, be the best, make them respect me, and maybe, just maybe, open the door for other women to step in to this arena. I promise you I will be okay.” I put my hand on his, squeezing firmly as I spoke, assuring him that I could handle the task I’d been given.

We finished eating in silence and Shawn nudged Hunter when it was time for us to leave. He would join us little later, the early part of the morning dedicated to our lifts and squats, something he knew I could handle on my own. I grabbed my bag and followed Hunter to the car, my head leaned against his shoulder as we talked trash about our favorite baseball teams and the upcoming football season and laughed. He drove us to the gym, the building easily mistaken for a warehouse from the appearance, and pulled in to the lot, the drive taking a scant fifteen minutes with the light traffic. There were a handful of other vehicles in the lot but no one was visible inside them and I started to get out of the car but paused when Hunter touched my arm.

“Do you want me to in with you and do introductions?” He offered to walk me in.

“I love you. I can do this by myself, I’m a big girl! Just, ya know, check on me at least once a week, okay?” I smiled as I leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Actually, I have a match at SummerSlam so I thought, maybe Shawn could train both of us at once, if you were comfortable with the idea. Would that be okay? Oh, you need to go. Okay, we can discuss this during dinner. I will see you back at the hotel, let me know if you need anything!” I tried to contain my giggles as he vacillated between dad and boss for a minute, his expression pure concern as he talked to me.

“Yes, you can train with me but be warned, I won’t go easy on you! Besides I think it will be good for you! Now, I need to go! Oh, and the one thing I need from you is trust. Please, trust me, trust that I can do this, and trust my training okay? Can you do that for me? Please?” I delighted in the idea of training with him and begged for a little faith from the man that had let me routinely upend his life.

He sighed and nodded, giving me the smirk he used when he knew he’d been put over, “You know I trust you. I trust you with my life, with your sister’s lives, hell even with Steph and that is saying something. Okay, I will see you at dinner. I love you!”

“I love you too! Now go enjoy your golf game! You are going to miss your tee time if you hit any traffic!” I teased, knowing that he was going to Orlando to work at the satellite office there and observe the current class of recruits being trained at the Performance Center.

He laughed and watched as I slid from the car, straightened and slung my bag over my shoulder, trotting to the doors. Once I was inside he headed for work hoping his little girl really could hold her own against the giants she found on the other side of the doors. Inside I found a well-lit room full of standard gym equipment, several rings toward the back of the space, and the locker rooms and saunas in the back, left corner. It was mostly empty of patrons as I paused to look around and spied a handful of familiar faces talking not far away. I resisted the urge to smile as I started toward the locker room, intending to find myself a locker, stow my bag, change shoes, and start my lift. I had one foot across the threshold of the women’s locker room when a hand settled on my arm and I turned to see who had grabbed me.

“I’m sorry, miss, this gym is for private use only. If you are lost I can give you directions to Planet Fitness.” An older Asian man I recognized as one of the personal trainers tried to stop me, talking down to me in the same manner they would a child.

“Hi, I’m Cailin O’Reilly, and I’m supposed to be here. Stephanie sent me. I’m their sixth.” I pointed to the quartet up front then offered my hand as I stated the reason for my presence.

“Oh?! You’re the girl playing… Oh! Um, it’s nice to meet you. Sorry about the um, the Planet Fitness comment. Groupies and all, you understand. Um, yeah, you aren’t what I expected. Okay, um, please help yourself and join us when you are ready, they um, they are waiting on you.” He was quickly apologetic, the fluster of embarrassment causing him to stammer in an adorable way.

“I just need to change shoes and put the bag in a locker, and I will be right there!” I promised haste with a grin and disappeared into the locker room.

Up front the guys watched as the personal trainer stopped a woman and they spoke for a minute then shook hands and she slipped in to the locker room. 

“Bloody Hell!” Drew muttered in his thick Scottish accent, his arms crossing over his chest as he glared at the new arrival, and shook his dark head of long hair.

“Wait, is that… They sent us a girl with red hair?” Nick was surprised, his casual facade hiding his interest as he popped his gum and tilted his bottle blond head to the side.

“Oh, fuck me, what is it with this company and female redheads thinking they are able to hold up against the men?” Colby griped, not amused as he shook his brunet manbun. 

“You act like she’s going to be trouble or something. She’s a rookie who is in over her head. We treat her and train her like the rookie she is and she will either fall in line or she will get sent back down to NXT.” Joe rolled his dark eyes and shook his black manbun, feeling his partners were overreacting.

“Um, no, she’s not just a rookie to train. She’s part of their crew, as in our sixth. She’s going to be ringside to distract and annoy us. She’s part of the group now. Don’t you ever check your script?” Colby reframed things for Joe.

“Eh, that makes her Drew’s problem, not mine. You know I’m not that easily distracted by women.” Joe seemed confident I was a pointless addition that would drive Drew insane.

“We will see. If she canna do ‘er job I’ll send ‘er back to Stephanie.” Drew growled as I walked toward them.

I strolled right up to him, held out my hand, and smiled, “Sorry about being late, last minute instructions from Mr. Helmsley. I’m Cailin, let’s get to work, shall we?”

Drew blinked, looked me up and down, and shook my hand, a firm grip intended to remind me I was but a woman. I turned toward the room and he led the workout for the morning, often glancing my way to see if I were struggling. They were almost disappointed when I kept up, pushing myself to match their intensity while making adjustments for weight and reps. I clearly knew my way around the equipment and was comfortable with every exercise they asked me to perform. What seemed to irk them most was my ability to make it seem effortless, my body sweaty but my breathing comfortable if a bit fast while they were panting and puffing as we closed out the lifting portion and moved to the next section of our workout. We walked to the empty ring they were scheduled to use, and Drew pointed to the apron of the ring.

“Get up there without using tha ropes or tha stairs.” He ordered me, curious to see how the leggy redhead would accomplish this task.

I glanced from him to the apron and smirked, amused he was throwing rookie work at me. I strode over to the ring and used the last two steps to propel my jump to the apron, not grabbing the ropes to steady myself. He nodded and made me hop down and repeat the sequence a dozen times over until he was content. From there he moved me to jumping from the pole in to and away from the ring at set points, another basic exercise to familiarize oneself with the spacing of the squared circle that we were all taught as rookies. I climbed the ropes, and leapt over and over, but this task was made more difficult because the guys were in the ring doing their warm-up bumps and walking through their routines. I paused to avoid jumping on them or deliberately jumped away from the ring to avoid being in their way when they took bumps against the turnbuckles. This worked until Nick flung Colby at me as I reached the top of the pole and I had nowhere to go, his body striking the turnbuckles in front of me, and I did a flip over Colby’s head to land in the ring and they all stopped for a second as I stuck the landing, settling in to a low side lunge, and stood to give the other three a disapproving look. It hadn’t been his fault and I wasn’t going to glare at him for something he couldn’t control. I decided that I wanted some water and wanted to show off for a second. I shook my head and took a running start, climbed up the ropes like steps, and used the top of the pole as a springboard to land a double somersault on the floor. I walked to my water bottle and sat cross legged on the floor, trying not to laugh as they stared at me, uncertain what they had just seen. They decided it was a good time to take a break and exited the ring one at time, ambling to their water bottles and towels. Shawn had been watching and teased me softly that for a rookie I looked damn good in that last trick. I snorted water out my nose as I laughed, and he handed me a towel. A second ring had opened up and Drew send me to do rope work and simple bumps with one of the other trainers while Shawn watched, not realizing the veteran had taught me all of these exercises years ago. I sighed but followed his instructions, spending the rest of my time on first day exercises. Shawn watched and reassured me constantly I was doing the right thing, but I could see it amused him that I was being treated like a rookie. Even on my first day in NXT I had been shown more respect and he knew it irked me they were treating me like a child.

He reminded me on my second break the following day it would be Hunter and I in the ring and we could do more serious training then and he encouraged me to play along for the time being. I agreed knowing this was how I built their trust and respect, even if it was silly and a bit demeaning. Shawn kept me apprised of the time as my day wound down and at one he sent me to shower and change for ballet. The guys were so absorbed in their practice they didn’t see me leave. I went through my ballet and gymnastics classes with a chip on my shoulder that did not fade as the week wore on. Back at the hotel Hunter teased me about being sweaty and shooed me off to my room, telling me to shower before dinner and what to wear. I cleaned up and dressed for dinner, his restaurant of choice a casual place we both enjoyed, and I laughed when he threatened me with more formal meals as the weekend approached. I pointed out I was doing cardio most nights and would need help changing before class. We talked as we ate and he roared with laughter when I recited the various exercises Drew had treated me to and at my patently bored expression during the retelling. He told me the same thing Shawn had, assuring me that when the guys were gone we would train on a level more consistent with what I was accustomed to. This appeased me for the moment, and we finished dinner on a happy note, laughter rolling as I told him about sticking the double somersault and I mimicked the faces of the men as I sat on the floor and picked up my water bottle. He drove me to Zumba and waited for me to finish the class, the need to maintain my cardio critical to everything else I did in the ring and out of it. Two hours later we returned to the hotel and he sent me to bed while he joined Shawn at the bar for a drink and a chat. I took a quick shower to rinse off the sweat, completed my nightly routine, packed for the next day, and crawled in to bed.


	3. Morgan's first Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remainder of Cailin's first week of training as she prepares for her first match with Drew. She finds out that her NXT character Morgan is confirmed and she takes advantage of the alternate personality to cause chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more action in this chapter. Hope you enjoy! The quote Cailin uses against Roman is from a book series by Jacquiline Carey and is a favorite quote of mine.

Chapter 3  
The following morning was similar and at the same time the opposite of the day before. Breakfast and my early morning routine were the same but at the gym Hunter and Shawn put me through my paces, testing my abilities in the ring thoroughly, and I got in a workout that was beneficial to my skills and I could be proud of. Hunter found out I hadn’t lied when I had promised I could keep up with the men, learning the hard way I was a force to be reckoned with in the ring. Shawn had done his job well when he had taken me under his wing and begun to train me, perhaps a bit too well. Despite going easier on Hunter I did not allow him to get away with anything, challenging him to work at my level rather than for me to dumb down my training for him. Over the remaining week the days when we worked together were my time to truly practice, to maintain my skills while the guys continued to put me through rookie camp during our sessions. Hunter quickly grew to appreciate my skills and it lit a fire in him, goaded him to work harder and be stronger. He and I taught and learned from each other, expanding the other’s repertoire, my adaptations on older moves easier for him than the high-flying stunts that the younger generation had perfected. In return he gave me the help I needed with my lifting to land a couple of tricks I was struggling with. He taught me the history behind the moves I modified and their significance in our industry, how to get in to and out of them, and how to use and escape the holds and locks that were applied in male fights. This was another area I struggled with occasionally when fighting the women and frequently against the men, the strength and size difference between the men and myself giving them an advantage and he taught me how to use that size against them.

The time together allowed us to bond over new aspects of an old shared interest and I looked forward to our days training without interruptions. He was a font of knowledge and history with a deep respect for the past and those who had built our industry and I was a willing student, soaking up everything he shared. He knew I would take what he taught me and the next time I was in the ring I would incorporate the knowledge in to my routine and it would make me a better wrestler and performer for having this information. He encouraged the growth but he also tried to help me find consistency in my routines, reminding me fans and management liked to see Talent finish the same way, to have moves specific to their routine, something that would tell anyone watching who was in the ring even if they weren’t in their gear or merch or had changed their look. I shrugged as I did every time he mentioned it and agreed to try but he knew it would only go so far, my mind not working the way other recruit’s brains did. While most Talent learned choreography, made a routine out of moves they were comfortable with, chose their handful of unique moves and closes, and rarely deviated from that list, I was the opposite, literally my fight was made up as I went through it, taking opportunities and openings as they presented themselves and creating them when they were readily available, picking my angles with care before I took my shot. He found it amusing I couldn’t replicate moves because it was normal for me to make new ones or put a spin on an old one and end the match without warning. He often pointed out I learned set pieces of choreography for ballet and specific combinations for gymnastics, reminding me of the routines I mastered in Zumba, Pilates, and Barre for my instructors. Despite my ability to follow someone else’s routines I appeared unable to do the same at work and while it amused us it frustrated my partners and made it difficult for them to guess how I would close the fight. He suggested small sections of choreography that I could easily repeat every match to give some continuity to my work, showed me in the ring how this applied, and I conceded he might be right but I worried that it made me weak and vulnerable. We tested this theory through a series of spars and when I was proven right he quit pushing the issue.

We had a good session Saturday before the guys came back from their house shows and I felt good about the upcoming brand show. We would be leaving the following evening for the show, staying the night in the hotel and performing Monday night then returning for our next week of training and house shows. The men returned on an early morning flight Sunday and Hunter insisted on taking all of us to lunch, a hidden desire to see us interact outside of work driving him to be magnanimous. I sat quietly while they chatted about the show the next night, teasing and joking about potential outcomes, cars we would be assigned from the rental companies, and what catering would serve. Hunter encouraged them, goading them in to silly bets and brash statements, getting subtle digs in at me in the process and I sat back, watching with a silent smirk on my lips while they chatted. They were in high spirits but everything sobered when Drew pinned me with one of his piercing blue stares and leaned across the table with grim features.

“Well, li’l girl, ahre ya reahdy ta be mah side kick tahmorrow night?” He growled at me as he leaned over the table.

I glanced at Hunter and raised an eyebrow only to receive spread hands in return. “I will be ready. Don’t worry, you won’t be disappointed.”

“If ya say so lass but ya had best be as good as y’er word because if’n ya aren’t I'll ship ya back ta Stephanie in Boston and ask ‘er fer someone tha can do ta job. I strongly recommend tha ya dinna mess it up.” He snarled at me, not amused by my smile or my casual composure as I sat back and sipped my wine. 

I inclined my head as if conceding the point but the smile never faded and I remained relaxed in my seat. Growing up as I had bullying didn’t phase me and after a week of Drew’s intensity I was lumping him in with the likes of Vince and some of the other elder McMahon’s cronies. A chuckle from the side drew my attention to Joe who was attempting to hide his amusement behind his glass of beer. I glanced at Hunter again and he gave me a knowing look, our time together telling him I was ready, and I inclined my head to him. We finished our meal and headed to the car, returning to our hotel to pack for our flight. I had already packed and was prepared to depart once we got back, taking a handful of minutes to retrieve my bag from my room and return to the lobby. We met in the lobby at the appointed time and I followed the guys out to the van that would take us to the airport, putting my trunk in the back with their bags, and stood there while teased me about over-packing until they realized that was my only bag save for my sling which I wore over my shoulder. I smirked and climbed in to the van, smiling at the guys as I chose a seat. Joe returned it while Drew glowered, Colby and Nick clambering in behind me to shut the doors and flop in to seats. The driver settled in to his seat and we were underway, this trip being made by charter to St. Louis with a return appointment in just over twenty-four hours. On our way to the airport I watched as they began the transition in to their characters, the alternate personalities they would become for the next day and for a moment I felt odd, this new version of Morgan one I didn’t recognize yet. I didn’t have anything to mentally don, no second skin to step in to, and I wouldn’t until the following evening when I saw how Morgan formed up. If they noticed the lack of change in my demeanor they didn’t say anything, a heavy silence growing as we rode toward the terminal and the tension between these four men tangible by the time we pulled up to the doors and the van stopped. Seth and Dolph got out first, I followed them, and the two men in the rear stared at each other until Drew finally gave ground and climbed out with Roman hot on his heels. I had already collected my trunk and headed inside by the time they got our and rounded up their gear. I was shown where to go by four reluctant chaperones who made it abundantly clear they did not want me around and viewed this as a babysitting assignment.

With bags turned over to those who would get them under the plane and the walk out to the aircraft completed we ascended the steps to the cabin and I paused to look around the interior. It was comfortably appointed with leather seats, wood paneling, and televisions for us to watch. The chairs reclined far enough that we could sleep comfortably when we chose to and I suspected we would be doing a lot of that on planes like these. The men paired off, Roman and Seth sitting on the front pair of seats, leaning across the isle to face each other while Dolph and Drew took the rear duo and settled in leaving me alone as they had been wont to do all week. My choice of seats became moot, the remaining seats between the two duos. I reached in to my bag once I was seated and withdrew a book, listening to the sides ignoring me as I turned pages and gathered information all at once. It was the stillness settling over the cabin that told me we had been joined by someone of importance and when Hunter dropped in to the seat across from me I was grateful for his presence but my professional demeanor never wavered. The guys shrugged and went back to their chatter, a sense of disappointment at my lack of social gaff that made me smile behind my book. I returned my attention to my book, reading through Sun Tzu’s The Art of War for the fifth time. Hunter gave me a questioning look and I responded with a short nod, his chuckle getting the attention of the others as they noticed we were interacting. Seth nudged Roman’s arm and indicated the book and I tried not to laugh at their reactions. A small noise from Hunter told me he wasn’t trying to hide his amusement, the obvious lack of intelligence gathering on their parts telling him they were in for a shock come the following evening.  
I immersed myself in the book, covering over a chapter and a half before we arrived, the popping of my ears as the breaks engaged made me grateful for my seat-belt. I had been so absorbed in my reading I hadn’t noticed the pressure changes until right before we touched down and I was forced to brace myself as the brakes engaged. I snagged my carry-on, shoved my book inside, and waited while we taxied to the private hanger we had been assigned. I had time to check my phone for messages before we pulled to a stop and I was anxiously waiting to debark during the post flight checks, watching as the guys picked up their belongings. I observed as they talked and teased, the disparate natures of their relationships evident as I watched them interact, one side playful and comfortable, the other tense, terse, and focused on getting through the competition. Hunter touched my knee and I glanced at him, the smile he gave me as he nodded toward the door earning him an answering grin and I stood up, striding out of the cabin. The guys paused in their chatter to watch me walk off the plane first and scrambled to catch up, reaching me as I gave my trunk to the driver of our van. I climbed in to the black Mercedes Strider Van and found a seat, pulling my book from my sling bag and opening the pages to the marker I had left behind. The men turned in their bags and clambered in to the cabin, separating by team with Dolph and Drew behind me, Seth and Roman across from them, and Hunter, opting to ride with us instead of taking the private, settled adjacent my seat. I ignored the pair of conversations behind me as I read, surreptitiously glancing out the window to keep track of our progress between pages. I closed my book and returned it to my bag as we pulled in to the hotel lot, the others not noticing until they felt the wide swing of the vehicle as it turned.

I exited the van first, Hunter following while the guys stared each other down, not wanting to be the first off. I was walking to the lobby when Dolph’s head poked out of the door and he paused as Hunter took a minute to remind them we had dinner and a meeting in thirty minutes. I checked in wile they gathered their gear and I was strolling to the elevator while they checked in. I had decided at some point during our flight Morgan was going to retain her full glory and her bouncy, sassy, sweet self was in full effect. The next time they saw me I was curled up on a chair, book in hand, a half full glass of water on the small circular table beside me. They paused, stepping out of character for a minute to wonder how I had beaten them downstairs and Hunter smirked as he stopped in front of them, knowing I’d packed neatly, unpacked swiftly, and had changed clothes in the time it had taken them to check in and take their bags to their rooms. I had been waiting in the lobby, reading and sipping my water until they showed up, some ten minutes after I had gotten comfortable. I looked up as they stopped a few feet away and met Hunter’s eyes, flushing as I stood up and closed my book. The long skirt I wore reminded him of a romantic tutu in charcoal an the snugly fitting rose colored blouse hugged my curves just right while they charcoal ballet flats kept me at my natural height, the ensemble working together to give the appearance of delicacy and grace compared to the men in front of me. My dad grinned as I approached, amused by the comments of the men behind him as they watched me walk up to their boss, each of them seeing me in a new light. He motioned for me to follow and the guys parted so I could walk passed them and they fell in behind us as Hunter led us to the ballroom where the food was being served.

We joined the rest of the cast and staff as they enjoyed a nice meal and when we finished eating we were given time to sit around and converse, spending time with friends before event the next night. I had disappeared behind my book, content to listen to the table talk when a couple of the ladies I had known briefly in NXT stopped by the table to say hello. The guys watched as I appeared to relax, turning on a sunny disposition they hadn’t seen before as I talked with the ladies, catching up and sharing my surprise at having been called up. They asked about my first official bout and were disappointed that I was eye candy for the first few weeks, a sentiment I echoed which earned me a glare from Drew. Before they left they made me promise to join them for breakfast the next morning and I haltingly agreed. Once they were gone I snatched my book from the table and delved in to the pages again, pointedly ignoring everyone else. The guys had carried on their conversations while slyly observing my reactions and the changes in my pitch and posture from before the visit to after, noting in particular the relief I seemed to feel when the other ladies had gone. It was surprising that after eighteen months of semi-pro and pro level wrestling I appeared to have no friends in the room, no one I trusted and they would have been shocked to learn that I trusted exactly two people in the whole world and both of them were sitting at the management table. Shawn sat beside Hunter, having arrived while we were eating to watch my first outing on the main roster.

Management gave us a little over thirty minutes to socialize before they opened the meeting. A quick recitation of recent injuries and the changes those caused to the fight card came first then the completed list of bouts for the following evening was discussed, those topics being our primary orders of business. They reminded everyone to practice safely, drink plenty of water, and rest our bodies ahead of the event the next night, stressing in ring safety both at the show and in training. They ran through a few announcements and capped off with the filming schedule for the following day. Once Steph finished the night was ours and we could socialize as long as we liked. I remained at the table, content to read and drink water and listen until I got sleepy. Dolph and Drew sat to my left and they had relaxed a little, their conversation lighter, more joking and teasing than before. Seth and Roman sat across from us and they tried to get my attention, attempted to pull me in to their conversation by addressing me directly when their hints didn’t work, but nothing they did made the book bob in the slightest. It wasn’t until Roman took a quick jab at my personality that I lowered the book enough to meet his gaze.

“Drew I hate to say it but I don’t know that she’s going to be much help in the ring if she’s always reading. Mousy bookworms do not belong in the squared circle.” Roman was betting that I would be as timid and quiet in the ring a I had been everywhere else.

“Never assume that the quiet ones are timid, Roman. ‘That which yields is not always weak’ and you would do well to remember that.” I quoted one of my favorite books as I replied quietly, looking him full in the face as I said it.

The table stilled for a minute as the others waited for his answer but he was mute, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at me and I lifted my book and resumed my reading. Drew and Dolph laughed as I shot the big man down with the reminder that all was not as it seemed in this world. Roman knew I’d come from NXT, had pulled video to study my skills, and he couldn’t understand why I had allowed Drew to treat me like a rookie when I was an accomplished talent in my own right. He knew a firebrand when he saw one and he hoped that there would be something left when my spirit finally blazed. What he was seeing from the woman across from him right then was so contrary to my tape that he was struggling to correlate the two. He didn’t realize that he wasn’t getting the full Morgan experience but rather the sweet, demure woman that Drew seemed to want me to be. I nudged Drew’s foot and Roman watched as my partner dismissed me with a wave of his hand, not bothering to say good night as I stood up and strode out. I returned to my room, swapped my dinner clothes for workout gear, and headed back downstairs to get in a session on the equipment provided by the hotel. I knew I wouldn’t sleep until I burned off some of the pent-up emotional energy I had and flung myself in to the exercises I could do with the limited gear provided.

When I had expended the emotions I had bottled up during dinner I returned to my room and showered, brushed my hair and teeth, and crawled in to bed. The following day began in dull fashion and I quickly found myself tempted to ask Hunter if I could go back to NXT, a place I felt comfortable, was successful in, and could shine in. We arrived at the arena and everyone ate breakfast, changed in to ring gear, did their hair and makeup, and began to film scenes around the sets that had been erected around the building. I was left standing around most of the day because the few interactions that involved my team had little to do with me, my slender frame a small detail in the background. I spent most of the day in my street clothes, dressing just long enough to be visible in the scenes I needed to appear in then back to my everyday wear until after dinner. I read several chapters while I waited and once dinner was done I returned to the locker room to change again, this time staying in my outfit until it was time to go to the ring. When we walked out that evening I did not expect any kind of pop but a few smatterings of fans recognized me and cheered. I had been promised they would keep my character and they did, right down to the graphics, and I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing how to be Morgan and give the fans a good show. The NXT fans popped for me and I grinned, finishing my walk to the ring with a little more confidence in my step and giggling as I saw the guys looking around for those who shouted for me. I had opted not to go with ring gear and kick pads, instead choosing a cheerleading skirt that looked like a miniskirt, a blouse, and ballet flats all in black, times that were simple but comfortable, easy to move in, and set the tone for my future wardrobe.

Drew entered the ring, did his usual promenade around the four corners, and the announcer, the lovely African American woman we all knew as Jojo with her curly, bleached hair and gorgeous post baby body, informed the crowd that the contest was scheduled for one fall, meaning it was a basic wrestling match with no props involved. When she left the ring I did the same, taking Drew’s sleeveless duster with me, and I paced the edges of the ring as the fight began, looking for any opportunity to annoy and tease Roman, to get in his way, and under his skin just long enough for Drew to get up. I snuck around the ring to grab Roman’s ankle while the ref checked on Drew and held him back until Drew could regroup, get vertical, and mount an attack or defend the next sequence of moves. Roman put Drew in an ankle lock, a new move for him, and Drew couldn’t reach the ropes but he could create a distraction, tripping the ref with his free foot. While the ref pushed himself up from the mat and staggered about for a minute I shocked everyone by grabbing Drew’s wrist and pulling him to the ropes thus forcing Roman to release him and changing Drew’s opinion of me slightly. I gave them both a cheeky grin while the ref yelled at Roman to let Drew go and simpered as I strolled away. Renee commented on my strength and Corey, who had seen me on NXT, replied that I was quick, agile, strong, and clever and Renee added that I was obviously a team player, impressed with my desire to help my partner win, even if she didn’t like my current pairing. She found out how far I would go for my partner a few minutes later when Roman set Drew up for a spear following a vicious Superman punch. I hopped up on the apron as he used the ropes to wind himself up and I stepped between the vibrating strands. He turned toward Drew, bending backward for his trademark roar but he paused when he straightened to find me standing in front of him with a quirky little grin. He blinked down at me and I took advantage of his moment of confusion to step in to his space.

Everyone waited on bated breath, knowing that if I hit him the match was over and the fans were certain I was going to do just that. The dozen or so fans that knew me were beside themselves because they knew I was the queen of the unexpected and whatever I had planned was going to stun everyone. Even Corey with his prior knowledge of my skills had no clue what I was about to do and for a second everything froze. I reached up, hands cupping his jaw, and I pulled him down for a kiss that made the whole room electric for a second. As I slipped away from the stunned man the crowd lost its collective mind and the commentary team was at a loss for words. Drew was struggling not to laugh as I planted a full kiss on his opponents lips then vanished like fog before the sun, leaving him stunned and immobile for a minute. The ref couldn’t do anything because I had in no way impeded Roman’s ability to compete and I hadn’t directly interfered by means of combat. Everyone waited for someone to move, for things to begin again, and they all watched as Roman was jarred out of his haze by Drew slamming an arm in to his chest and Roman tumbled over the ropes and out of the ring. I stood on the other side of the squared circle and giggled, pleased with myself and amused that my actions had lulled him in to a state of shock that might permit Drew to win.

Roman got up slowly, checked himself for nonexistent bleeding, and crawled back in to the ring. Drew gave him no quarter and began to stomp him in to the mat repeatedly, barely letting him under the ropes before the assault began. The ref pulled him away but I could tell the tide had turned and Drew would win. A handful of chops to Roman’s chest, a Glasgow kiss to his forehead, and a Claymore kick later and Drew was able to roll up Roman’s nearly unconscious frame and get the three count. The referee raised Drew’s hand and I grinned as he did his victory pose around the ring before saying something to Roman and exiting the ring. As we walked out I was trying not to yawn, the match having been entertaining for the fans but not overly interesting for me. Most nights if I was in the ring space I was there to shine and to amaze the fans but tonight did not feel as though I’d done that in the slightest. The one major action I had taken had been the kiss and it was definitely a Morgan, off the cuff moment but by the standards I usually set the whole evening felt flat and lackluster. As he cleared the curtains in to the waiting area known as Gorilla Drew touched my arm and we stopped for a second while he regarded me, a bit of respect in his blue eyes.

“Well, lass, I have ta admit, ya surprised meh. I thought y’er just a rookie but I guess y’er more accomplished than I gave ya credit fer. I think I need ta reconsider our relationship goin’ forward. I think ya might know what y’er doin’.” The bass of his voice rumbled with a reluctant acceptance of our partnership and I blinked, stunned.

“Thank you, Drew.” I replied quietly before heading to the locker room.

He watched me go, pondering how to safely put me through my paces, and was still staring after my departed frame when Roman came through the curtain and stopped beside him. They exchanged a look and Drew laughed.

“Ta lass got ta better of ya.” He pointed out with a chuckle and Roman scowled, nonplussed by the distraction and the outcome.

“Not by choice. I never would have seen that coming. I fully expected you to distract the ref so that she could hit me. I mean really, who thinks of kissing their opponent? If I had known what she was up to I would have stepped around her and completed the spear.” Roman was grumpy, displeased by the loss and the way it had come about.

“She’s doin’ ‘er job and given y’er reaction I’d say she did it well. She made ya hesitate and tha’ was ‘er whole intention. Maybe she’s worth trainin’ after all, she might make a damned good heel.” Drew grinned at him before disappearing down the hall to his changing room.

We all changed clothes, packed our bags, and prepared to depart, mentally walking through our evenings as we closed out the night. As he cleaned up Roman ran through the fight again and sighed, shaking his head as he questioned what other crazy stunts I had up my sleeves for the future matches. We all met up at the bottom of the ramp and walked up to the van that would take us to the airport. Ours was one of two that were going to the terminal, everyone else was going by car to the house show the next night. At the airport we were driven to a hanger and we took our luggage to the crew handling our flight. We boarded the plane and everyone got comfortable for the flight home. Once we took off everyone reclined their seats and dozed off, sleeping the three hours back to Tampa. We lost an hour going east and I knew I would feel it in the morning. It was after two A.M when we arrive back, shuffling like zombies to the van for our ride back to the hotel. On the way we dozed some more, the occasional snore causing someone to get an elbow in the ribs or a shove in the back. When one snore got particularly loud I lifted my head to find the guilty party and Hunter pointed to Colby with a chuckle. I giggled and put my head down again, relaxing against the seat. It was almost three by the time we repeated the zombie shuffle through the vacant lobby and made for the elevators. I stepped in to the car and leaned against the wall, my body furious I was upright and mobile though awake was questionable. When our floor dinged Hunter made sure I got to my room and bid me goodnight softly as my door closed. I left my bag in the middle of the front room, vowing to deal with it the next day. I changed, rushed through my nightly routine, and slid in to bed for a couple of hours of sleep.


	4. Test Me if You Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What starts as another boring day of training goes sideways thanks to Colby's generous suggestion to let Morgan spar. What results is pure mayhem!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of long but a lot of fun!

My alarm sounded and my hand slid from the blankets, slapping at the top of the nightstand until I could find my phone and turn it off. I sat up slowly and cursed a few times, my body complaining about the lack of rest it had received. I made short work of my ablutions and dressing, wanting to snag some caffeine before my day got started. I packed my duffle bag for the gym and started toward the door, seeing my trunk still sitting in the living room. I groaned and shook my head knowing it was going to stink after the night before. I didn’t have time to deal with it and kept going, heading to the landing to call for an elevator. I met Hunter in the restaurant and we had a quiet breakfast before he took me to the gym, a sympathetic mien to his features as he took in how tired I was. He wanted to give me the day off and knew I could use the rest but wouldn’t take it even if he ordered me to. He pulled up in front of the gym and waited while I scampered for the door, chuckling as I dodged raindrops as I went and once I was inside he drove to Orlando to work on NXT and scripts for the next section of the brand shows. While he drove I raced for the locker room to change shoes, put my bag away, and join the men on the weights, quickly catching up with the workout they had already begun and keeping pace for the rest of the session.

Colby led us through a tough CrossFit workout of lifting, running, jumping, calisthenics and climbing and I giggled as I listened to the guys grumble about the exercises. When we finished Drew pulled me aside and between sips of water he told me to start with the same exercises I had done the first week and promised we would build on that foundation as the week progressed. I considered having an entitled princess meltdown but knew it would be pointless and would ruin any credibility I’d built with them. Instead I nodded, put my water bottle down, and walked to the apron to begin the exercises at a quick pace, getting them done while showing proficiency. Drew heard a chuckle and glanced at Joe and Colby who were watching me with amused expressions and barked at the group to begin their floor exercises with a grin. They began their routines and I sped through my reps, my pace outstripping theirs. I hoped that if I completed my rookie exercises in time they would let me do some training in the ring and I would feel like I had accomplished something. I rushed through the exercises but I did not cheat, working quickly through the monotony of all the jumps and bumps until the pole jumps were all that remained. Colby and Nick finished their floor exercises sooner than anticipated and stepped in to the ring, content with their initial routines for their next fight. They began to test the sequences while I did my leaps from the pole, pushing myself to get a bit more distance on the jumps in to the ring or a bit more height when I leapt to the barricade side, the wall delineated in tape on the floor to give us an idea of how much space we had to work within. 

I kept a wary eye on them, knowing where they were and would be before and during each jump. Protecting teammates was the responsibility of everyone in the ring and to fulfill my part I was estimating trajectories and predicting movements every time one of us twitched, holding my position if one of them got too close to my intended mark. When Nick flung Colby at the turnbuckles in front of me I stood up on the pole and leapt over Colby’s head before he could knock me off. I landed a few feet in front of him, startling Nick, and Colby thought for a second he would have to move me out of the way to continue their sequence. My landing had put me on Nick’s mark for a kick from Colby and I impeded their progress for a moment. I landed and Nick juked to his left which gave me the space I needed to launch in to a forward round-off with a twist that carried me away from them and their routine. They paused to stare as I stuck the landing and casually leaned against the ropes on the opposite side of the ring, motioning for them to continue so I could finish the ridiculous exercise Drew had given me. Once they were through with that of choreography I returned to the corner I’d been working in and jumped on to the pole. I turned as I heard them start again and began to predict trajectories before resuming my exercise, taking a minute to strategize my tempo to avoid being in their way. I gathered myself to take the next leap but the jump didn’t go as planned, a hand on my ass attempting to dump me in to the ring in the middle of Nick and Colby’s latest sequence.

I felt the push, the sudden upward momentum a surprise I typically associated with an impatient coach during gymnastics practice, and I had seconds to utilize the shove to my advantage. I flung my arms up and managed an additional push with my legs that gave me a bit of much needed height as I turned the potential fall in to a diving forward roll in to a handspring, coming to a stop in front of the turnbuckles on the opposite side of the ring. I pivoted on my toes and took in the guilty party, observing Joe’s smirking mien as he leaned against the ropes beside the pole I’d been forced to vacate. I found the situation lacking in amusement and took a handful of running steps to launch myself forward in to a handspring with a back twist that allowed me to hit Joe with a Stratisfaction that shoved him to the floor. I spun to glare down at him as he sat up and waited for him to come after me but he remained on the floor, reconsidering picking on me and glowering as he peered up at me.

“Finish y’er jumps!!” Drew struggled to contain his laughter, tickled this delicate woman had dumped Joe on his ass.

I stuck my tongue out at both of them, feeling annoyed and impertinent. I finished the jumps but I was bored, the beginner stuff making me chafe mentally as I ached to truly test myself against them. I had shown them a stunt no one else did in their routines and they acted like it didn’t matter, unimpressed by my skills. I sighed and went back to work, completing my last jump as Nick found himself flung in my direction by Colby and he flailed and attempted to avoid hitting me. I saw him coming and dove out of the way, another twisting forward handspring allowing us to avoid disaster. I stuck the landing and stood facing them as they gawked at me, jaws dropped in surprise, stunned by my latest display of agility. I was a bit confused why this one caught them off guard when the previous two had gone unremarked upon. 

“What?” I asked as though this were a perfectly normal part of my day and unbeknownst to them it typically was when I trained properly.

“You are weird.” Colby said with a grin, uncertain what other adjective to use.

“Oh, darling, you have no idea!” I laughed at him and turned to Drew for my next assignment, “Now what, sir?”

“They need ta finish their sets so come out fer now, y’er in ta way. We will run through ta fight between Roman and I once they’re done and ya can practice bein a distraction.” He instructed me to leave the ring in a tone that hinted he thought I had no connection to the squared circle.

I huffed and rolled my eyes, not surprised by his attitude, and scowled at him as I started toward the ropes. I got to the edge of the ring and was about to sit down to roll under the lowest rope when Colby made a suggestion.

“Why not let her stay? A third might make this more interesting and she’s clearly bored. Why not give her a challenge?” Colby offered to let me remain in the ring but his tenor indicated he figured I would be flattened in minutes.

“You are joking right we will slaughter her!” Nick argued with Colby, indicating he thought the other man had taken leave of his senses and forgotten they were supposed to be training me, not attempting to murder me.

“No, not really. I mean maybe a little, but Drew is treating like a rookie, something she is refuting just with her body language. Her ring awareness while we have worked in front of her today and her performance last night also indicate that she’s at least passing familiar with how to behave in and around the squared circle. I mean come on, look at how well she’s dodged us today and even managed to avoid being in the way when Joe shoved her in to the ring. Guys, she’s not a rookie, as much as we would like to think she is. Why not test the theory?” Colby’s grin told me he was amused, enjoying the idea of testing me and before anyone could posit an argument to the contrary he started toward me.

I stood near the ropes a bit surprised by Colby’s attitude, having been about to vacate the ring, and when he started in my direction I saw I had two options, meet him head on which gave him an advantage, or scale the ropes and fly over his head thus giving me more room to work. Never one to permit an advantage unnecessarily I opted to climb the ropes and flip over his head, landing and doing a backward walkover to further open up additional space. Nick shrugged, chuckling, and joined in, spinning to dart toward me with his typical gleeful mien. I ducked his attempted clothesline and saw Colby step in to my path, forcing me to make a quick course correction. I had limited options in directions I could go and decided sacrificing my body was the best choice, sliding between his legs like I was stealing third. He bent at the waist to grab for me but I was already gone. I popped up from the mat and darted up the ropes, twisting as I pushed off the top line, and went flying toward them as they tried to catch me. We collapsed in a tangle of limbs and torsos, the males rolling on to their sides as I sat up and quickly regained my vertical base, a gleam in my eye and a grin on my lips, the softer landing I’d achieved giving me the ability to recover faster. Shawn recognized the signs that Cailin was about to go full Morgan and pulled out his phone with a wink at the other trainers as if to say ‘watch this shit!’.

“Are you insane?!” Drew roared as he observed my quick recovery and the speed with which I scaled the ropes once more.

“Not yet, no, but if you give me a minute I will blow your mind!” I assured him I was quite sane at the moment as I sat on the pole and waited for the men on the mat to get up, grinning like an idiot.

Colby sat up first, nudging Nick as he did so, and the other man glared him, blaming Colby for their present state. I laughed at them and they whipped their heads around trying to sort out where I’d gone, spying my casual pose atop the pole. They scrambled to get upright as I waved coyly at them, baiting them in to coming after me but it didn’t work. They exchanged a look and tried to give each other a minute to recover and I was having none of that. I stood on the pole, seeing Drew reach for me out of the corner of my eye, and I leapt, spreading out in a frog splash. I landed on top of Colby who was closer, and we went down in a heap from which I appeared first. I bounded up from the mat and Nick caught me around the middle, tossing me backward in a German suplex, and I bounced off the mat, a painful hit that left me in the perfect position to roll backward in to a kneeling lunge. He sat up and rolled to his side and started to rise, intending to come around for a second attack but he didn’t get far. I straightened, turned, got a running start and hit the ropes, coming up to Nick and hitting one of Colby’s moves, the front foot landing in the middle of his spine to shove him downward in a Curb Stomp. Both men groaned as I stood up and took stock of their positions, walking around them in wide circles.

“What were you saying about keeping up?” I snarled as I stalked them, waiting on them to get up.

“Taunting isn’t nice, Morgan!” Drew growled from the apron, tracking my every movement as he called out my character.

“Oh, it isn’t nice when I do it but it’s okay when you do it? Is that because I’m a woman or because you are a heel?” I challenged him with a dirty look, pausing in my circling.

He would have answered but I didn’t give him the chance. I stood near enough the ropes to use them for additional momentum to pull another of Colby’s moves, diving through the ropes to land the famed Suicide Dive that sent Drew’s massive frame sprawling to the floor with my smaller body on top of his. Before I could roll away and return to the ring a hand in my hair drug me away from Drew and I found myself staring up at Joe’s amused grin.

“Is there anything you are afraid of, little girl?” He chuckled as he held on to my hair, his amusement making him careless.

I reached back and snapped the rubber band in my hair, twisting my body and pulling my hair through his fingers as I created space. I felt my bun fall, the swirl of tresses separating as his fingers slid through the strands and I took three steps before pirouetting gracefully and lowering my shoulder. He grunted as I hit him in a short linebacker tackle that sent him to the floor beside Drew, his hands going to his ribs. The answer to his question was one thing, a single notion that scared me and that was trusting people. I would never admit that to anyone but as I rolled away from him I was reminded of how easily trusting another person could hurt me. Colby and Nick were watching from the ropes as I started toward the ring and their break was cut short when I leapt on to the apron, hitting them in their bellies with my shoulders. They doubled over and I spun, busting my ass on the apron as I dropped, an arm wrapped around their necks, and their throats bounced off the top wire. They fell back, gagging and coughing, writhing on the floor like fish out of water. I hopped to the floor then jumped to the apron, climbing to the top rope, and landed a moonsault on both of them, rolling away to stand and strike a casual pose across the ring from where they lay. I glanced up when I heard someone laughing and saw Shawn holding his sides.

“She’s been here not even four hours today and she’s done more damage to the four of you than any of you have done to her! I think it is safe to say she knows her way around the ring! Are you ready to stop treating her like a rookie?” The man that I’d been training with my entire career, Shawn Michaels, was a veteran of the industry and he was leaning against the wall in tears as he laughed at them.

Drew pulled himself up to the ropes on the opposite side of the ring from where I stood, glaring at me while Joe leaned against the apron beside Drew’s legs and gave me some speculative consideration. From my present position I knew with certainty I could take out one of the two men but not both, that would require altitude and angle changes over the course of a stunt but which one? Joe was lower and had the advantage of having Drew ready to catch me before I ever got to him and I knew if I went after Joe Drew would pick me up and rag doll me. The two on the mat were staring at me upside down and strongly contemplating tapping out before I hit them again. A hit on them would be easy but could put me within arm’s length of Joe and Drew which would put an end to my fun, something I wasn’t ready to surrender just yet. The little devil on my shoulder whispered, ‘time to get creative!’ and the angel popped a parachute with a wave, vacating before the real insanity started.

Nick sat up, a bit dazed, and managed to fix me with a glare. Colby rolled on this his hands and knees and I blinked, tilting my head as I squatted down, changing my view of the ring by degrees. I considered every angle, the posts, the ropes, and where and how each man was positioned, a grin breaking out on my face. I was either going to land this or I was going to kill us all in one shot. Shawn knew the look and had already pressed record on his phone’s camera, the video recorder running as I straightened. I took a handful of steps toward the men sitting on the mat then turned and took off running, using the ropes to fling me back the other direction. Colby grunted as I hit a second Curb Stomp and flattened him, using his spine as a springboard to launch myself in to the air. I came over the top rope to land a Superman punch that sent Drew sideways off the apron on to Joe, leveling them both. The impact changed my trajectory enough to permit me to swing my legs around and in to a split, snag the middle rope as I fell, and swing myself through like I was working the uneven bars at the gym. The momentum carried me between the middle and bottom ropes, my legs closing as I cleared the space between my entry point and Nick, my feet slamming in to his chest, and I slid the rest of the way across the ring to land in almost the same spot I’d begun the stunt in, rolling over to rest in a crouching lunch.

I crawled over to Colby on all fours, rolled him up, and waited for a trainer to count to three. We all heard the bell and I rolled away from Colby to lay on the mat and giggle, thoroughly please with myself and the outcome. These were the moments I lived for, the ones that always had Hunter and Shawn on edge when they watched me work, the times when I could go full Morgan and do something truly spectacular yet exceedingly dangerous. These were the true challenges for me, when the odds were overwhelmingly against me and I had no obvious answers that would lead to a victory, that was where I excelled, and it made for some of the best in ring moments of my career. This had been, without a doubt, one of the greatest stunts I had pulled, and no one saw it save the trainers and my partners, making it almost anticlimactic. Nonetheless I lay there and laughed, tears in my eyes as I enjoyed the amusing aspect of what I had just accomplished.

Colby sat up after a couple of minutes and rolled over to hover in a plank position above me, staring at me as I laughed, “You are insane!!”

“I know! I didn’t think I could pull that off! Please tell me one of the trainers recorded that! I need to see it!” I howled, wiping tears from my eyes as I tittered.

“You could have killed someone! You could have killed me!” He scowled at me, furious I had been reckless with his personal safety.

“Relax, King Slayer, I had no intentions of dying or becoming a quadriplegic today, and if I had messed up that stunt the only one getting hurt would have been me!” I assured him as I sobered a little and grinned, reaching up to pat his chest.

He studied my face, searching for something, and I waited for him to decide what he was going to do with what he saw in my eyes, the amused intelligence telling him I had never been out of control for a second. After a minute he shook his head and rolled away, sitting on the mat as he caught his breath. I sat up and checked on the rest of my victims, determining they were mostly intact based on a quick visual inspection. Nick lay on the mat, breathing hard and not moving, red imprints on his chest from my feet. I could see Drew’s head, he was sitting up, glaring at the ring, and it was apparent he was reconsidering the idea that I was enhancement talent. Joe lay on his back, not moving, and I could see he was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. He grimaced in pain, something I hadn’t expected to see on his face, and I wondered for a minute if he were injured or just playing the part. That galvanized me to get up and examine them to be certain I hadn’t hurt them beyond the normal wear and tear of our occupation. I walked over to Nick, offering him a hand as I knelt beside him, and he gripped it, allowing me to pull him in to a seated position, and I checked him over for injuries. He had bruises and a few scrapes as well as welts from the ropes but otherwise he appeared unharmed aside from the damage to his ego at being shown up by a woman. Once I felt comfortable with his injury status I straightened and padded to the ropes, climbing between the middle and top cords, and hopped down from the apron to walk over to where Drew sat glaring at me. I knelt beside him and examined him for injuries but he wasn’t hurt, just irate. He swatted my hands away as I tried to check for injuries and scowled at me.

“Ya could ha’e hurt someone. Y’er damned lucky ye dinna! I would have ya on y’er way back to Boston on the next flight with a recommendation tha’ Stephanie start ya back at day one of trainin’ camp!” He snarled at me, enraged at my perceived carelessness.

“Nope, the only person that would have been hurt was me. I don’t take the risk if I can’t reap the entire reward, there is no point. This is why my friends won’t take me to play pool, angles are kind of my thing and I always win. That was why I did that funny little squat before I moved, I needed to see where you and Joe were standing in relation to Colby, Nick, and the ropes.” I assured him with a laugh I had worked out everything in my head.

“Ya calculated every single angle ya would need fer tha little stunt in y’er head?” He was surprised, finding my ability a bit unusual but not unheard of.

“Yup, I’m good at this because I see things no one else does, in ways other can’t, and I’m willing to attempt stunts no one else will. I’m a bit too fearless perhaps but when you know how the pieces fit it is hard not to put the puzzle together and make an awesome picture. It’s why the NXT fans loved me.” I convinced him I knew what I was doing as I ran my hands along his back and neck, checking for broken or displaced bones while his attention was on my words.

“I’m fine, just a bit rattled from ta fall, it isn’t often something as small as you is able ta knock me down. Okay, if we’re goin’ ta pair up I need ta know what ya can do. I can’t have any more surprises.” He changed his tune when it came to working with me, mind racing as he saw possibilities.

“Well, I hate to tell you this but you will never be out of surprises where I’m concerned. The only suggestion I have for you is to get in the ring and spar with me, actually make me work instead of putting me through these ridiculous exercises. Maybe then you will have an idea of what I can do. I was the NXT Women’s Champ for four and a half months before I got called up. Maybe a little respect is an order?” I retorted with a grin, letting him know I’d ridden this roller coaster more than once.

“Okay, okay, once everyone else is checked out and up and we’ve gotten some water ya and I will go.” He told me with his patented psychotic smile.

“Sounds good to me!” My smile echoed his and for a moment he questioned if I were related to Dean Ambrose.

He held out his hand and we shook on it like adults, understanding that after the break we would test the other and neither of us had any intentions of holding back. I straightened and strolled over to where Joe lay on the floor, kneeling to examine him. His eyes were closed, arms wrapped around his head, and he was breathing heavier than he should have been given the situation. I found a few knots in his back and shoulders as I evaluated him but there were no significant injuries that would have warranted his behavior. His limbs and torso were intact, even his neck showed no indications of damage from my clinical perspective and I chalked up his antics to testing his acting props. I began to rise, intending to go get some water and let him have his tantrum when he shifted from flat on his back to lunging for me without warning. I had a half second to register that he had moved, the fluidity of his movements as he sat up and one hand closed around my throat while the other reached across his body to push my hip toward the floor as he took me down and I found myself supine as he covered my body with his torso, fury etched in his features, shocking me. I pressed my palms in to his belly, digging my heels in to the floor as I attempted to create some space between us but he wasn’t budging as he glowered down at me. I hadn’t been this vulnerable in a while and I could feel the fight or flight hormones kick in, my need to protect myself threatening to take over as a fine trembling began in my limbs. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Drew stand and impose himself between us and the trainers, a hand cautioning them to stay back and let the scene play out, Shawn standing beside him with a curious mine helping him keep the others at bay.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Joe growled in my face, our noses almost touching.

“I was doing what I’ve been instructed to do, what I was sent here to do. I was proving I could hang with the big boys.” My voice was faint, my words a whisper as my ability to breathe was impaired by the clutch of his hand.

“And damn near killing all of us was your idea of the best way to prove you are on our level?” He snarled, his face scant inches away from mine.

I defied the screaming klaxons in my head that told me I should be terrified of this man and did the one thing he hadn’t planned for when he decided to make an effort to intimidate me. I shifted beneath him, scooting closer, and let my hands relax and reverse the pressure I applied to his belly, reaching up to pull him toward my body in a playful way as I tipped my head back until our mouths were almost touching.

I looked up at him with a smirk, purring softly, “Relax big boy, I had no intention of killing anyone let alone dying. I do know what I’m doing after all. Besides, Stephanie wouldn’t have sent me if she thought I was dangerous. She and I much prefer our talent in one piece if you know what I mean.”

I slid my hands down his sides as I puckered up and blew him a kiss, my words designed to arouse as I strung them together in a smoky tone. He blinked, unable to handle the sudden tease and I smirked up at him, daring him to continue with a raised eyebrow. He rocked back on his heels, glaring down at me as I propped myself up on my elbows, my chest drawing his attention for a second before he growled wordlessly and stood up, stomping off in the direction of the locker rooms. Having called his bluff and won I lay back and laughed, relief flooding through me, and the sound of my mirth only made his hackles rise further. Colby glanced from where I lay on the floor laughing to his friend’s retreating for and quickly slid from the ring, trotting after Joe to calm him down and convince him to return to practice. While Joe had attempted to scare me and assert his dominance Nick had regained his feet and joined the rest of us outside the ring, deciding that he’d taken enough punishment for one day as he handed me my bottle of water and stood beside Drew sipping his own. 

Once I had calmed down and gotten some water Drew helped me up from the floor and pointed to the ring. I nodded and we moseyed to the apron, taking turns hopping up and stepping inside, inclining our heads to the other before the bell rang and he came for me. He quickly learned that I was not his typical opponent and those outside the ring gathered round to watch the match between two of the most unlikely and disparate competitors ever seen in the history of wrestling. Drew attempted to stick to conventional means of grappling and fighting as I ducked, dodged, and flung myself out of the way of each advance, avoiding the majority of the hits he attempted to dole out. I took a few solid strikes and he leveled me several times, but I never stayed down, bouncing up to return the favor and putting him on his ass, flat on his back, and a few times on his face. He lost count of the quick, short, sharp chops I landed and he hated that he knew how many times he went over or through the ropes. He did his best to fling me around, introducing my back to the ropes and turnbuckles multiple times but I never stayed there long enough for his next move, deliberately going over the ropes, under them, and using the turnbuckles as support while I kicked at his chest and face and climbed to show him what those pole jumps turned in to. When I landed a swift punch that leveled him I pounced, sitting on his chest as I went for the cover and despite his effort to kick out it wasn’t enough, and the bell rang. I flopped on to the mat, panting for air beside him, and I grinned, pleased with the spar. I would have said something, but my fitness band buzzed, and I quickly tapped the screen, cursing as I sat up. I check the time on my band against the clock on the wall and bounded from the mat, darting for the locker rooms. The guys watched me go, an exchanged of befuddled looks passing between them, and Joe in particular seemed most confused as he and I passed each other going in opposite directions.

“Where is she going? Too much water? Or did she learn she can’t hang after all?” He asked, pointing to my disappearing figure.

“Dunno but she seemed desperate to get out of here.” Drew pointed out, “Maybe she’s worried I would be upset?”

“It is One PM and I believe she has other lessons to attend to and she might even be running late.” One of the trainers quipped in regard to my sudden departure.

“Other lessons? She’s supposed to be training with us! And why would you be upset, Drew?” Joe snapped, rotating to go fetch the girl from the locker room.

“Joe, she just beat Drew. They were at it for almost an hour and she took him to his max. I think she can handle the in ring part of her training. Let her go.” Colby defended the absent member of the team as he put a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

Joe blinked, pausing in his stride to rotate and stare at Drew in shock. The Scotsman spread his hands in capitulation, admitting the defeat he’d suffered, and Joe shook his head, changing his trajectory toward the ring. The four men climbed in to the squared circle and began to choreograph their next bout, talking about and showing short sequences of combat as they prepared to face off the following week. They were working through a series of moves when one of the trainers called a farewell to someone and the guys stopped to look at the person leaving, the sight of their sixth brought them to the ropes and they watched her go. I had showered, my hair was pinned in a neat bun, and I wore makeup, something they weren’t used to. I had put on sweatpants and a jacket over an outfit they couldn’t identify from their present position, and my bag was slung over my shoulder, bouncing against my hip as I walked. I talked on the phone as I scampered out the door in to the rain, my face showing my agitation at being late. The closing of the door ended their viewing of my departure and they shrugged and went back to planning a fight while I went to class. By the time I exited gymnastics they had cleaned up and taken off for their next house show; while I went through two different types of choreography they were busy designing their own. When I had finished gymnastics for the day my assigned driver for the day dropped me off at the hotel and I trotted through the lobby to catch an elevator to the fifth floor where I wound my way through the halls to my room. A short shower, a change of clothes, and some makeup later I was ready for dinner with Hunter.

An emerald green dress with black heels and a French Twist took me from young professional to classy lady in no time and I was pleased with the look I had achieved as I answered the door, Hunter’s approving smile confirming I had done a good job. He looked dashing in his black suit and shoes, the gold tie providing a pop of contrast to the dark ensemble. He held out his arm and I put my hand in the crook of his elbow, scooping up my purse on the way out the door. Silence reigned between us as we ambled to the landing to wait for the lift and throughout the ride to the main floor. He guided us to a sleek limousine that waited to take us to dinner and he still hadn’t spoken a word, the quiet between us uncommon. My stomach formed knots as I waited, contemplating breaking the ice myself but uncertain what to say. Once we were ensconced in the vehicle he turned to me and I recognized his expression, the lines of his face telling me he had something heavy on his mind.

“I hear you had an interesting morning.” He gave me an inquisitive look.

“I just did what you said to do, I proved I could hang with the big boys!” I replied with feigned innocence.

“Oh, is that all? I want to hear all about it at dinner.” He had a disapproving and slightly patronizing tone to his voice as he informed me he would be a rapt audience during our meal.

I felt sick, the idea that I had disappointed him making my stomach clench and my heart pound. I stared out the window for the remainder of the drive and wondered what he would say to my explanation of the day’s events. It didn’t take long to arrive at the restaurant of choice and I was pleased to see he hadn’t chosen another steakhouse. We had a tendency to get in to a dietary rut at times and I often had to remind him there were other foods in the world beside a T-bone, baked potato, and mixed greens. Pulling in to a seafood restaurant he had voluntarily chosen made me smile while the volume of cars made me grateful he had scheduled a reservation. We were seated immediately and spent time perusing the menu, the reasonable number of selections a bit overwhelming because there were so many delectable options. Upon the waiter’s recommendation I chose the prawns, vegetables, and a salad while Hunter opted for crab cakes, a potato, and veggies. The waiter disappeared for a few minutes, returning with our drinks and some bread. Hunter had given up drinking while I was in middle school but as of late I’d noticed he had started again. It wasn’t much, a drink here and there, but I knew him well enough that this change signaled a serious disruption in his life, some kind of stress that he couldn’t readily sooth. WE requested glasses of water but my drink of choice was a white wine that paired with my prawns while his was a red, the deep merlot contrasting with his tan as he held the bell of the glass. I smiled at the waiter in thanks before he went to check on another table and picked up my phone, a soft ding reminding me I hadn’t checked my messages or email all day. It turned out I had texts and emails waiting for my attention and Hunter studied the people around us while I read and responded to all of my correspondence. It took a bit longer than I had anticipated and I saw him glance my way when an email didn’t come together the way I wanted, and I muttered a few choice words in Irish. I made a point of being polite and professional in my posts but often worried about context and the recipient understanding my words. When I finished I sat back, placing the device on the table, and smiled at him tiredly.

“Hi, Daddy, how was your day?” I inquired playfully and he grinned, knowing I was attempting to make light of what was to come.

“I had a good day, maybe not as good as some, but I can’t complain. I finished several projects, managed to storyboards for the next six weeks of NXT which should be excellent barring any injuries, and scheduled my tee time for Saturday. The highlight of my day was the call I got from Shawn this afternoon. Want to tell me about your day?” He joked initially but sobered as he closed out his statement.

“Oh, you know, more of the same stuff I did last week. We worked out on the weights, Drew gave me rookie exercises to do, I beat every man on my team, and pissed Joe off so badly he walked away from the ring. Would you believe he spent an hour sulking? So, ya know, just a normal day in my journey to the peak of the wrestling mountain.” I replied in a nonchalant tone as I picked up my wine and swirled it around the glass before taking a sip.

“Oh, is that all? I see. Well then, would you care to explain this?” He held out his phone with a video cued up on the screen.

I took the phone hesitantly and the second the video started I knew I was about to receive the ‘safety first, they don’t think like you do, be more careful’ lecture that I’d heard a million times from him since I had started in this business. The video was from Shawn and it began with my transition in to the squat and the grin that came next. It followed every move made in and out of the ring as I launched myself off of Colby’s spine in to Drew’s face, the punch, Drew falling in to Joe, the split, catching the rope, and my feet meeting Nick’s chest with a meaty ‘thump’. It showed me how Drew had landed on Joe and they way the two had sprawled on the floor before rolling in different directions to recover, something I hadn’t seen as I had gone through the ropes to my final destination. I watched it twice more, the grin on my face growing with each viewing as I dissected the stunt and analyzed how I could make use of these movements in the future. I rewound the video fourth time and began to watch it again when Hunter reached over and removed the device from my hands, and I looked up at him with a pouting expression that earned me a scowl, not done with the review.

“That was not for you to gloat over! You could have hurt any one of them or yourself! And yes, I know that angles are your thing but, sweetheart, we have talked about this! Not everyone sees the ring like you do, predicts movements the way you can, and no one can guess what you are about to do! What if one of them had moved?!” He chided me as gently as he could, a sense of pride at the accomplishments clouded by concern for everyone’s safety and a need to discourage my brazen antics.

“I would have modified my plan; I have done it before. I am your daughter, Daddy, always adjusting, modifying, making new plans, and working through the situation as it comes to me. That is what got me the belt in NXT six weeks after I started with them and it is what has allowed me to not only retain but make it the most interesting reign in wrestling history according to Meltzer and LeGreca. I’m not going to stop being innovative and reckless now just because it might be dangerous! What part of our job isn’t incredibly stupid and exceedingly dangerous? We are our own stunt people! There is no lookalike going in to the ring for me every week!” I countered, reminding him of how hard our job was and what made it entertaining.

“I know, baby girl, I know, but it’s like all of those past crazy stunts you have done! It could have gone horribly wrong because no one was prepared for it except you and, well, Shawn, but only because he knows you and eggs you on. You really need to be more careful; you could end someone’s career if you lose control!” He sighed, reminding me again of how badly things could end.

“True and we both know this but let’s face fact shall we? I never once was out of control of that situation and right this second it is all you can do to keep a straight face while you fuss at me. So, what is the point of all of this?” I showed him the one flaw in his argument with a sassy grin as I raised an eyebrow, “Admit it, you loved it!”

“I won’t deny that I am proud of everything you have accomplished in your career. Shawn has been an excellent coach and trainer and I openly admit he’s worked a miracle with you. But, baby, I worry about you every single time I drop you off or put you in any kind of vehicle. You are so damned fearless in the ring and it scares me! Not everyone is on their second life like you are!” He was honest with me, the fear he kept pent up allowed to breathe a little as he expressed is concerns.

“I know, Daddy, and that is why I think about all of the facets, analyze every angle, and consider all of the possible outcomes before I twitch the first muscle. And let’s fact it, in this case I had more time than I normally have to plan, none of them was going anywhere. Colby and Nick were gassed, Drew wanted to stop the bout and was looking for an opening to do just that, and Joe was observing. I knew that of all of them Joe posed the greatest threat and was the most likely to finish things. I found a way to take them all out in one go and used Drew to do it in the simplest manner possible. What is it you always say about ‘keep it stupidly simple’? That’s what I did and frankly I thought I was clever!” I smirked at him, sitting forward as I showed him my plan. 

“Okay, little one, okay, you win! You were clever, critical, brave, smart, and spectacular! Please, be a little more careful, that is all I ask of you! I don’t want to see you get hurt!” He held up his hands in surrender, begging caution while leaving off one critical word – again.

“I will try but I make no promises. You know how I am, and I know how much you hate pie crust promises.” I gave him a smile and the only assurances I could as our food was placed in front of us.

We ate in peace, content in the other’s company, knowing what the other was thinking. While I might not have been born a Helmsley or a Levesque I had been his daughter for nineteen years of my life and despite not being my biological father he had been a dad and a friend to me and he knew me the way any father knows his child. Now as we sat at dinner I knew that he was both proud and terrified, the woman across from him embodying everything he could have hoped for in an heir and more. He had complimented me honestly; the stunt I’d done in practice was something no one had seen before and every word applied to the trick and the person performing it. Most other female wrestlers were just wrestlers, their ability to learn the choreography and personalities enough to help them through training camp. Some came in with CrossFit, mixed martial arts, or specific sports experience and that gave them an edge over the straight wrestlers, but the mic part was always a challenge as they struggled with the personality side of the character they were trying to play. I came in with a long history of hockey, ballet, and gymnastics as well as the pedigree of my adoptive father and the extensive training by my ‘uncle’. I could take a hit and return them with grace and agility while blowing off the discomfort. My pain tolerance added to the challenge of fighting against my other skills and the years of training I’d been partaking in. He knew my history, my training, my skills, and took pride in all of them, nurturing them openly and subtly throughout the years, but he also knew under it all I was truly a glass cannon. Despite being five feet, ten inches, my one hundred-sixty-five-pound frame was lean, muscular, and fine boned, giving me an ethereal, delicate look. However, appearances can be deceiving and the strength behind the façade allowed me to take a beating and dish out the kind of punishment that left opponents in the training room. He had seen firsthand how much damage I could take and walk away from at the end of the day.I constantly projected an air of confidence and self-assuredness that fooled others in to believing I was the total package. As I sat there nibbling on my prawns Hunter questioned my strength and confidence, wondering if I had the mental and emotional stamina I appeared to have physically. He knew the longer I appeared in front of the larger audiences the deeper the microscope would focus on who and what I was, and he knew the toll that could and would take on a person.

“Daddy, I’m not new to wrestling. I have been doing this for years, lived in this world for longer, and I am used to the crowds. I know how quickly they can turn and how obsessed they can become. I know my skills and they will carry me through just as they always have. If you are worried about my past coming up I understand and all I can say is if it does so be it, we will address it then. Until such time let sleeping dogs lie. Right now, I’m focused on Monday and my role.” I placated him as best I could.

“I know baby, but after everything you have been through it is difficult for me to…” He sighed and looked way; his grizzled features made all the grimmer by his bald pate.

I reached across the table, playing my hand on top of his and squeezing to draw his attention back to me, the smile I wore giving him hope, “I am not going to break. You know they can beat me to within an inch of my life and I will get up and keep going. If they happen to temporarily take me out I will be back, stronger, fiercer than before. I am not going to fail but I may take a step back and try another angle. If I do happen to botch this I will get up and try it again over and over until I get it right. I do not give up, ever. I learned that from you.” 

“I know.” And he did, he had seen me do it even when it had defied death.

“Take a deep breath, relax, enjoy your dinner, and have a little faith. Your little girl is tough enough to kick the ass of anyone that dares challenge me in the ring and that includes you. I will win no matter the odds.” I pointed my fork at him as I spoke in a playful tone.

“You know, you are not too big or too old to be turned over my knee and spanked, little girl.” He growled teasingly and I laughed.

“Oh, I’m aware, but I haven’t found a man big enough to do it!” I giggled as his jaw dropped.

“Young lady!” He scolded which only served to make me laugh harder.

“Relax, Daddy, it will be years before I find a man I consider worth dating if I ever do. I may never find one I’d be willing to let spank me!” I predicted I would be eternally single.

“You had best not find one any time soon! Thirty-five, remember! I am not ready for grandchildren!!” He growled stabbing a piece of broccoli.

“I’m not ready for that kind of commitment or trust in another human. If I were I would want what you and Steph have, the love you share when you aren’t at each other’s throats over trivialities. I can do without all the drama!” I told him wistfully.

“I know baby, and I believe you will find it when you are ready. It might take time and you can’t rush it. For now enjoy your time in the ring, beat up all the boys, and if you happen to find one that can give you a run for your money on more than one level you should give him a chance, you never know, he might be the one for you.” He reached over to pat my hand as he encouraged me to enjoy my life but not ignore the possibilities of love.

I smiled and nodded, “I will take it under advisement.”

He laughed and we finished our meal in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s company. It was nice to be close to him again, being away at school and living apart from him had been hard on me even though it had been necessary. Stephanie was my stepmom and for the moment she was supportive of my chosen profession but that was an unusual twist to our relationship. Most of my life she had been difficult, antagonistic, and even malicious if it made my life harder. My bond with Hunter was the antithesis of her relationship with Vince and I suspected she was jealous. Hunter supported my every venture, perhaps not right away, but once he had seen me involved in whatever project or activities I was tackling he got behind me completely. The more violent things I enjoyed were harder to convince him of but eventually he caved. Hockey had been a stretch for him especially as I got older but that was where we had been introduced and when he saw my joy at scoring a goal during a game while I was in middle school he decided I was going to college on a scholarship which I did. He hadn’t wanted me near wrestling, trying to protect me from the drama, and he hoped I would be deterred by what I’d seen him go through over the years but Killer Kowalski, Hunter’s long time trainer, had seen something in me and before he died he pulled Shawn aside and told him to get me in the ring. Once I got passed my initial aversions and fears Shawn had been able to teach me about every aspect of wrestling life with help from friends like Edge, The Hardy Boyz, and Mark Henry and the more I learned the further I fell in love with my dad’s chosen profession. In the end he got Hunter drunk and confessed to sneaking his best friend’s underage daughter in to beer halls and Elks Lodges to wrestle on the Indy circuit. It took a little while for Hunter to forgive him but eventually he came to a match and everything changed.

We sat back, reclining in contented silence until the waiter asked about dessert. Hunter raised an eyebrow, curious if my sweet tooth needed appeasing but I shook my head. The waiter returned with the check and he paid for dinner then escorted me to the limo that waited in the parking lot and helped me inside. He held me close to his side until we arrived at the hotel and I enjoyed snuggling with the man that had become the focal point of my life after the deaths of my parents. It wasn’t a long ride but it helped us reconnect and further solidified the bond between father and daughter. He helped me from the vehicle and offered me his arm, a casual stroll in to the lobby making us seem like a couple to outside eyes, an affluent man with his young trophy wife or girlfriend. He kissed my cheek as we parted way, my path taking me to the elevator while he joined Shawn at the bar. The guys were drinking in the bar, talking as they picked at snacks on the table they occupied, and Hunter and Shawn sat down with them. While I ascended to my floor Hunter chatted with the guys, doing his best to obtain their reactions to the events of the day, quickly discerning I had stunned them all with the stunts I had pulled. Once the shock had worn off they had been impressed if a bit frighted by my ingenuity and moxy. They agreed it had been dangerous but that was the thrill of NXT and why the fans followed the Indy circuit, the lower tier professional leagues, and the developmental leagues. Colby commented the lower threshold for danger might have been what was missing from the main roster and suggested perhaps the younger generation might bring that back to the brand shows in a way that was reminiscent of the Attitude Era.

Hunter promised to take their thoughts and suggestions to Steph and Vince but he understood how hard it would be to convince his father-in-law to make the changes being recommended. They chatted for a little while longer then he bid them good night and headed to his room. He had offered no explanation for his interest in their teammate and that only added to their curiosity about her and the relationship she had with their boss and his best friend. Their inquisitive need went unsated over the next two weeks as we trained together and they attempted to adjust to my style of fighting, learn from me, and teach me about how things were done on the main roster. I continually showed them new things which they weren’t prepared for but it was the depths of my knowledge of our profession that truly blew their minds, my age belying how well I knew my job and its history. The majority of our time together was hectic, their primary focus being on the choreography for each bout as we prepared for the brand show to come. The additional lessons I took cut our time short and frustrated them as they desired more time to work with me and my role within the dynamic of the feud. On the days that we were able to work together they learned I was creative, quick, and fearless, even in the face of failure. The rest of my time was spent training with Hunter and a pair of ladies who were on different schedules from the men. I worked well with all parties and the more he observed the greater Hunter’s desire to see me fight at this level became but it also drove hi need to get back in the ring and be the game once more.


	5. Stepping Out on my Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Monday Night RAW outings in a row for Morgan. She has quite the time working with Drew and tormenting Roman but what will come of it?

CHAPTER 5  
The next two trips were the most consistent parts of my week because the schedule was nearly identical to the first one. The late lunch with Hunter, traveling, dinner and breakfast with the cast and staff were becoming normal parts of my brand show timeline. The production meetings after each meal were dull but expected lest we be out of sequence for filming and our bouts. It was filming scenes where I felt almost invisible as a talent and overexposed as eye candy, the lines they gave me leaving me to embellish to make myself relevant. The walk to the ring and the fights themselves maintained some semblance of routine and I enjoyed being seen by the fans and giving them something to remember. It was the one time during my day when I felt like people actually saw me and my star shown a little brighter than everyone else. The impact of my first appearance was evident from the moment we walked out the second week. More fans popped for me and I smiled, waving at them as a means of thanking them for their support. In the ring, it was also apparent I’d made an impact. On top of the experience he had with me in the gym, Roman had realized I was a threat and respected the chaotic mischief I could create. To that end, he did his best to avoid me during his match with Drew but in doing so he cut his operating space in half. My partner had no such compunctions and made full use of the ring, utilizing the space with impunity. Despite his efforts to evade me I still made Roman pay each time I reached him, pulling bratty moves that slowed him down enough to keep Drew in the match. After being interfered with once too often Roman stopped avoiding me and focused on winning. I saw him change his strategy and had to alter my approach to helping Drew. The pace of the match sped up and that limited my usefulness until Roman gave me an unwitting opening. 

The match was winding down and he slid into the corner for his signature Superman punch on my staggered partner. I had been prancing in the direction of the same corner and saw an opportunity. I bounded up the stairs and darted up the ropes to sit on the top turnbuckle while he sized Drew up and prepared to launch himself at the hapless man. He stood up straight and ran his hand up and down his wrist, indicating he had locked and loaded the pending punch. He was standing between my thighs and froze as my arms wound around his chest, running suggestively over his vest as I leaned forward to murmur something in his ear. The audience couldn’t hear what I said, his hair obscuring my lips thus making reading them impossible, but they saw the outcome of the distraction. He paused, listening to my words as his facial expression shifted from fierce to intrigue to desire. The salacious things I murmured in his ear were enough to get his guard down and allow Drew to regroup. Roman relaxed under my hands, leaning back into my chest as I talked, and he failed to see where my attention really lay. I watched Drew while I spoke naughty things in Roman’s ear, winking when I knew he was defenseless. The large Scotsman drew himself upright and glared at us jealously while waiting for a signal from me. He flung himself at us when he saw me wink and I released my hold on Roman. I had seconds to stand up and launch myself backward to avoid being crushed by the impact. The top rope gave me the lift I needed to clear the post as I launched myself into the flip and stuck the landing in front of the barricade. Drew slammed into Roman as my feet went over my head, bodies bouncing off the turnbuckles to the ‘thwack’ of my shoes hitting the floor. I grinned up at Drew and curtsied, giggling as he glared at me. He was displeased by the reaction I’d received from Roman and how easily I had been able to distract his opponent. The ref had been busy checking on Drew and I had taken advantage of his lack of focus and distracted Roman. He hadn’t seen what I had done and only became aware of my presence in the ring when he saw my feet go over my head thanks to Roman’s height. He was unable to disqualify Drew because he had no evidence I’d interfered with the match and Drew took advantage of that fact. He crossed to the opposite corner and Roman stumbled into a Claymore Kick that sent him to the mat. Drew rolled him up and got the pin before the Samoan could regain his wits and kick out.

We stood in the ring as the ref raised Drew’s hand then turned his attention to the downed man. Drew did his victory promenade to a rousing roar of boos from the crowd and I smiled. We exited the ring and the fans were torn, uncertain how to react. They didn’t want to cheer the heel that had gotten over, but they were struck by the performance of his partner. Everyone was curious about what I’d said to take Roman’s mind off the fight and that made them wonder about the woman that had said the words. While some fans were happy to see Roman lose most were disappointed and it showed in the volume of the room, a half silent crowd that hesitated to respond due to their conflicted emotions. This made me grin and prance beside Drew toward the top of the ramp and our exit. I was pleased with the overall outcome and looked forward to my scene the following week as it was the crucial jumping-off point in my attempt to break up Dolph and Drew. I’d been seen frequently in the background talking to the blond half of our trio and to Seth and Dean, but I had yet to actively attempt to influence them. When I’d received my script for the next week Creative had given me bullet points for all my parts rather than actual lines and I knew this was Hunter’s influence. The lack of lines meant I would ad-lib my way through the next performance and it showed his faith in my abilities on the mic. When I questioned him about it he shrugged and warned me to be cautious with what I said and how I behaved. To that end, Hunter and Shawn included time to act out the roles of the men I interacted with during my training over the next week. They read the scripted lines and critiqued my reactions, interrupting when I got too edgy or emotional. Shawn produced a Kendo stick from a closet and would tap me with it every time I swore or said something not approved by the company. I went home Wednesday with welts on my legs and an appreciation for how difficult it was to keep things truly PG. By lunch on Sunday, I had a good idea of where I would go with my lines, but I felt nervous as we boarded the plane. While their lines were predetermined there hadn’t been time to run lines with any of my teammates and I hoped their reactions went as I anticipated, or I was going to be left mentally flailing.

On the third Monday of my tenure on the main roster I arrived at the arena after breakfast and headed to the locker room to dress for my day. My mind was buzzing with possible outcomes for every line I’d rehearsed. I talked my way through each scene quietly and pulled on my flat fronted cheerleader’s skirt and the black blouse I favored. The black ballet flats and thigh-high black hose completed the outfit and I finished pulling them on at the same time as my lines. The outfit was a precursor to my ring gear which was currently in production and I looked forward to transitioning to the corset and shorts. I liked having simple garments that provided the perfect amount of sex appeal to tease the men in the ring and in the audience. More important than sexiness was the protection and mobility the clothing provided during my performances and those priorities drove my choices in gear. Satisfied with how my clothes fit I pulled my hair from inside my blouse and spent some time curling it and applying my makeup. It took time and patience to achieve the look I wanted but once I had I departed the locker room for the dressing room we would use for our scene. There weren’t enough offices and closets to turn in to dressing rooms for everyone, so we took turns shooting scenes in the handful of available spaces. I paused outside the lights, cameras, and crew and waited for them to finish their set up and test shots. When the lights were right and the angles were covered, an assistant knocked on the door to check on the status of the two men inside. They called confirmation they were ready through the door and the assistant vacated the doorway. I stepped on to the marker for my scene, a red X made of tape on the floor, and paused. An assistant held a counter in front of the camera and when it was clapped they gave a silent three count on fingers and I received my cue. I stepped off my mark and entered the frame, walking up to the dressing room door and knocking. Drew opened the door and his arms crossed over his chest. He glared down at me and it was evident he was displeased to see me on the other side of the portal.

“What’re ye doin’ here?” He asked, annoyed I had shown up at his door unannounced.

“Well, hello to you too! I came to check on you and Dolph. I wanted to make sure you were ready for your match tonight. You are tagging against Seth and Roman. It is a big match. Are you sure you are prepared for this? I think Roman is still a little bitter after last week.” I feigned concerned as I pushed passed him into the dressing room.

“We will be fine. We have beaten them before! And let him be bitter. It’s his own fault he can’t stay focused.” Drew glowered as he answered me, certain they would pull out a victory.

“Um, I know you have but I have heard a rumor they are bringing a third person to the ring tonight. Do you know who it will be? What if this puts you at a disadvantage? You know how badly the numbers game plays out in the ring!” I questioned him, worry writ large on my features.

“They will be bringing their trusty sidekick, Dean Ambrose. We are going to be fine though, we have you! And we have been training for this all week. We are prepared! Now, how are you doing, baby girl?” Dolph jumped into the conversation.

“Don’ be daft and don’ coddle her, Dolph! She’s no’ a match for Dean and we both know he’s gonna make this match harder. Instead of a single thorn in ma side, I’ll have two!” Drew was not amused by Dolph insinuating I could compete with the highly unpredictable Dean Ambrose.

“Ppssshhhh, he’s not coddling me! To say I can compete with Dean is high praise! Thank you, sweetie! And I’m fine by the way, thank you for asking!” I leaned over to kiss Dolph’s cheek while I chided Drew for being rude. “Besides, he can only make the match harder if he is paying attention to it. I intend to keep him distracted while you take care of business!!”

“Tha’ is unwise. You canna handle Dean, no one can handle Dean! He’s a mentally unstable menace with an unpredictability streak a mile wide! Now, how do ya plan ta handle tha? Ya canna romance him like ya do Roman! He’s married and to this day I’m no’ sure how Renee managed to make tha happen.” Drew snarled, jealousy peeking out as he informed me that Dolph was blowing smoke up my ass.

“Come on, Drew, I think you are underestimating me! I have helped you win the last two weeks! Besides, I think you will be pleasantly surprised tonight. I’ve been training and have some tricks up my sleeve!” I debated him in a cheery tone, pleased with myself. “And who says I’m romancing Roman?”

“Oh, ya have tricks do ya? Well, I hope they’re good ones because Dean’s ta king of tricks and stunts. I’m pretty sure just him being at ringside will cancel out any tricks ya have. So, what good are ya? And I could have won those matches on my own. It isn’t like you were instrumental in my wins. Now, be a good girl and clean up in here. I will see ya after ta match.” Drew mocked me then stomped from the room.

I drew back and gaped at him as he talked down to me. When he departed I turned away from the camera to make it look like I was crying. Dolph ambled over and put an arm around my shoulder, concerned his friend had been too harsh.

“Hey, don’t cry! He’s not worth the effort. Besides, he didn’t mean it. He appreciates you! He’s just wound up over this match. Dean being there makes it much harder on us and he’s overthinking the whole thing. Please, don’t cry, Morgan. Come here, baby. Forget Drew, he can clean up his own mess when he gets back! You can walk down with me and we will have fun, okay? You can torment Roman, Seth, and Dean as much as you like and when I’m not in the ring I will help! It’s going to be okay I promise!” Dolph pulled my smaller frame into his chest and tried to calm me down with the promise of fun.

“Thanks, Dolph. I… It isn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have to clean up his mess. This is just so frustrating!! I work really hard training and learning all those skills in the ring and he doesn’t even notice! I help him win and he resents me for it like I robbed him or something. Does he think I enjoy kissing Roman? It’s like he’s jealous of a relationship that doesn’t exist! Tell me the truth, what else do I have to do to prove myself? Why do I bother? He’s never going to appreciate me or take me seriously!” I bemoaned the amount of effort I was putting in for every match and the nonexistent praise and gratitude I was getting back from Drew. 

“Honey, I have known Drew a while and trust me, he doesn’t appreciate anyone. The number of people he respects can be counted on one hand. Even as his friend and occasional partner I have had periods of feeling unappreciated by him. I can tell you from first-hand experience the man thinks he’s climbing this mountain alone. It isn’t true, he’s been helped by every person he’s ever worked with and that includes you. So, whether he appreciates you or takes you seriously or not you have helped him. And you are a clever girl so I think you will be fine no matter what he says. You don’t need Drew to validate your talent.” Dolph assured me the issue resided with Drew and not with the work that he and I had put in while working with Drew.

“If he doesn’t appreciate anyone and he’s such a lone wolf, why are we helping him? Maybe I should let him fail and see how he enjoys that? Or better yet, maybe I should go it alone and show I don’t need him! Do you um, do you think Baron would give me a singles match?” I rebelled, tired of being an underling.

“You know, you have a point. Maybe we should let him run by himself for a while. You should totally talk to Baron! While Drew fails you can fly! Perhaps if he sees you succeeding his attitude will change. You are ready to do this on your own and you are going to be great!” Dolph encouraged me to stand on my own two feet.

“Dolph, you should really consider going too. I know you have been friends and partners for a long time, but you deserve better. He’s a horrible partner and he’s holding you back. You could be working toward a title shot and instead, you are sitting in the middle of the card holding his hand. It isn’t fair to you!” I responded in kind, appearing to want him to flourish.

“I should, shouldn’t I? It might be what’s best for him too. Sometimes you have to lose it all to appreciate what you had. You would think he would remember that after getting fired once. We’ve been good to him and helped him out, that’s all we owe him. Why not go solo? I’ve done it before and been successful! I could do it again! I tell you what, I will make you a deal. If you or I get a match from Baron the other will accompany us to the ring, whadda ya say?” He grinned as he confirmed he should leave Drew and made me an offer with an outstretched hand.

“I will take that deal! I think you would make great eye candy! Now, we should go, Drew is going to wonder where we are!” I teased him as I shook his hand.

Dolph pulled me in for another hug and we walked toward gorilla bantering about ring girls and teasing the other about what they would wear if we got a singles match. We came through the curtain together still bickering playfully, leaning on each other and laughing. We stopped at the top of the stage and he did his entrance. We had presumed Drew would already be on the stage, but we were alone. Drew walked out and glared at us before doing his entrance while I rolled my eyes and Dolph shook his head. We walked down to the ring together but the attitude of all three members of our party had sobered and become downright chilly. While Dolph and Drew did their ring poses I walked around the floor and trying to wind up the crowd. The promo had swayed some of the crowd in my favor and when the guys were on the other side of the ring the fans would cheer for me. The large roar came when Seth and Roman’s entrances hit along with the announcement they were being accompanied by Dean and they strode to the ring together. Roman and Seth were in their individual ring gear while Dean wore jeans and a t-shirt. I could see the fans were disappointed they weren’t getting The SHIELD but rather a spectating Dean and a fighting Seth and Roman. I felt bad that the fans weren’t getting what they wanted and made a note to mention it to Hunter, the desire of the fans to see The SHIELD back together evident by their reactions. 

Thanks to hours of video I felt I had a good handle on Dean’s behavior and planned to work my ass off this match. I intended to run laps around the ring while attempting to stymie him in every way possible. Every man in the ring knew they weren’t supposed to hit a lady in the vicinity of the ring with the rare exception of someone like Nia. I hoped to use this to my advantage in tormenting Seth and Dean. The stipulations of the match were announced, and the ref informed both teams someone had to leave from each side and the men debated who would start for a minute. Drew let Dolph start against Seth, taking up a watchful post by the corner and Roman echoed his stance on the opposite side of the ring. Dean prowled the floor on their side, and I pranced along the edges of our space, each looking for a chance to wreak havoc. My first opening came when Dolph whipped Seth into the corner by Drew, ran into the opposite corner, and followed up with an elbow to Roman’s jaw. Roman fell off the apron for a minute and sat up to check himself for bleeding but there was none. The ref tracked the action, Dolph running at Seth to slam into him, belly to belly. Roman hopped up on to the apron at the same time that Dolph was turning to repeat the run at Seth. The ref yelled at Roman when he tried to take a swing at Dolph, and I darted into the corner to yank Seth’s legs out from under him. I pulled him backward until he had a painfully unfortunate meeting with the post and he roared his discomfort. I murmured an apology as I started to walk away but that quickly became a run as Dean raced around the corner of the ring. Drew dropped down to clothesline the third member of the other team to give me a minute of breathing room and I nodded my thanks. I glanced up at Roman and he caught me looking, his attention drawn down the line of the ring to where I stood, and my smirk gave him a chill. He returned his attention to his teammates and groaned, spying Seth curled into himself holding his crotch and realized why I had been grinning. He quickly searched for Dean and saw no indication of his friend and his stomach rolled over. 

I tried not to laugh at him, the snarl he wore told me he was growling, angry, and unable to help his partner or his friend. He had mentioned casually in practice a few days before he disliked me in this role. That little tidbit of information goaded me into making him hate it all the more while verbally daring him to do something about it. I’d already figured out he didn’t get me, my attitude, the way I lived and worked. It had become my mission to befuddle him at every turn and tonight I was determined to leave him frustrated in every possible way. To that end, I grinned, knowing that until Seth got up and slapped his hand he was trapped on that corner, unable to tag in and incapable of helping his friends. Dolph tagged Drew in and the dark-haired Scotsman turned his rage on the still incapacitated brunet male on the mat. He proceeded to drag him up by his hair, pushing him into the corner and laying chop after brutal chop into his chest. I tried not to wince as I saw Seth’s tanned chest quickly become a medium shade of pink from Drew’s abuse. Meanwhile, Dolph pounced on Dean and they began to brawl on the floor, rolling around as they punched each other, pulled hair, and generally created mayhem. I rolled my eyes and walked in their direction, determined to help my partner out. Roman watched helplessly as I jumped on to the apron, pirouetted, and landed an elegant Frog Splash on Dean, nearly taking Dolph out in the process. He growled knowing that Drew would be in the ring with Seth for a few minutes while Dolph took his frustrations out on Dean. The Scotsman’s stamina in the ring was remarkable and often it was what allowed him to win his match, steadily wearing out his opponent over time with vicious hits and monstrous kicks while never fatiguing himself.

Seth doubled over as the ref counted the fifth chop and forced Drew to back off. Drew took a couple of steps back and started toward Seth, but the smaller man got his foot into Drew’s chin. Drew sold the kick by staggering back the few steps but recovered quickly and caught Seth by the hair as he tried to crawl to Roman. He pulled Seth up and began to punch him and it was Seth’s turn to sell the daze of head trauma, stumbling against the ropes. Roman roared at the ref to stop Drew but my partner got five swings before the ref could step in and he was just beginning. I kept a portion of my attention on Dolph and Dean as they renewed their brawl after the Splash, tossing each other into the barricade, the apron, and even the metal steps. I considered what to do with Roman while I observed them and gauged their attention to what I was doing. The fight outside the ring was more fluid than the one inside and I hesitated to leave Dolph alone for long, keenly aware of how quickly Dean could turn the tables. Roman was getting angry and stressed as he paced the corner, unable to do anything to help his friends aside from cheering them on and try to get the crowd behind them. He was restless, nearly entering the ring a couple of times to stop Drew’s assault on Seth and I could tell he had no intention of remaining stagnant much longer. He didn’t care if he threw the match, he wanted to protect Seth from Drew who was battering the man nigh unto unconsciousness. I checked on Drew, but he was holding his own capably. I turned my attention to Dolph and saw that he had temporarily incapacitated Dean with a Zig-Zag. I recognized that this would be the best time to deal with Roman before he lost his mind and interrupted Drew. I winked at Dolph and ducked around the ring, stalking my prey. Roman was pacing the corner, from one side to the other until he got too close to Drew and the ref ordered him to back away. I crouched by the steps, staying out of sight until his attention was on Seth once more. He’d lost track of Dean, Dolph and I in his frustrated pacing, more concerned with Seth’s wellbeing. He had spent too much time distracting the ref with his pleas to back Drew off enough that his partner could recover and had left Seth and Dean vulnerable. Now he was the one without protection and completely unaware that he was the target. I snuck up the steps behind him and stepped up on the lowest rope to put us at eye level. I reached out to place fingertips on the far side of his jaw and pulled. Gentle pressure turned his face toward mine and he stared at me, openly confused by my sudden appearance. There was a fleeting question on his features before I leaned over and kissed him. Seth screamed for Roman’s help as Drew threw him to the mat and put him in an ankle lock, but I kept his partner busy until he had no choice but to tap out. We were still kissing when the bell rang, and I pulled away. I winked at Roman with a naughty smirk on my lips, stepped off the rope to the mat, and hopped down from the apron. I pranced around the ring to where Dolph waited, standing over Dean’s battered form, and we hopped up to the apron to celebrate with Drew.

I peeked at Roman and he looked sick, ashamed hormones had been able to make him forget about the match. While we stood in the center of the ring he glanced around for his partners, not seeing Dean at all, and becoming worried as he took in all the damage done to Seth. My attention was drawn to the side of the ring as Dean’s head popped up, his pained expression as he sat up making me feel bad about the abuse he’d taken from Dolph. His hand went to his head and he glanced up at the ring, taking in who stood there. He managed to pull himself upright using the barricade and searched for Seth and Roman. He found his brothers in arms across the ring but in opposite corners. Seth looked like hell, the beating he’d taken in the ring leaving him bruised and bleeding. The visible handprints in angry red lines on his chest and his dazed and pained mien telling Dean it had been a brutal fight. Roman, on the other hand, appeared ready to vomit, guilt and shame on his features as he waited for the ring to empty so he could go to Seth. Dean would have questioned Roman’s expression, but he saw the smirk I wore as I glanced at his brother. The impish grin told him I was in some way responsible for the loss and Roman’s present state of agitation. Dean wandered around the ring to climb the steps and touch Roman’s shoulder, the dark-haired man giving him a sheepish look. Drew started toward the ropes and they prepared to duck under and join Seth in the ring. Seth wasn’t moving much as Drew departed and they were concerned but until Dolph and I left they couldn’t check on him. Drew headed up the ramp and I nudged Dolph and we traded a look. Dolph moved to the ropes furthest from the ramp and I followed him. I paused beside Seth as I reached the ropes and knelt to check on him, his semiconscious state concerning me. He looked up as I stopped beside him, confused as to why I would check on him but the touch to his shoulder and the worry in my eyes said plenty.

“Darling, you might want to consider finding better partners in the future. It might save you from taking another beating like this one.” I teased him as I offered him a hand up.

He ignored my hand, but I saw the small quirk of his lips as my words sank in. He was still in pain and not quite ready to move, his body screaming at him for all the abuse he’d taken. I shrugged and stood up, my attempt at being gracious not lost on the fans, and I slipped from the ring to stride after my partners. My comment had been given consideration based on his reaction and that meant I was creating microscopic cracks in the brotherhood of the men in The SHIELD. The fans gave me a modest pop for what they had seen in the ring and my attempt at kindness. The moment I cleared the ring Roman and Dean descended on their fallen brother, checking on him over for injuries. Seth pushed their hands away and eased himself into an upright position. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but the looks they were trading told me plenty. They were still arguing softly when they helped him from the ring. I glanced back as we walked up the ramp and saw that Seth was supported between the two men. He leaned on them heavily as they made their way toward the ramp and he did not look well. Dean was talking a mile a minute and looked concerned about Seth and his injuries. Roman’s attention should have been on his wounded friend, but it wasn’t. He flushed beautifully under his tan when he realized I had caught him looking at my ass. I gave him a smile and a wink then wound my arm around Dolph’s waist and leaned into him as he echoed the movements. At the top of the ramp, we turned to salute the crowd and check on the wounded, observing their slow progress. I watched the worried look that Seth and Dean shared as they glanced at Roman after he kicked the steps, the attention of their friend taken up almost entirely by the redheaded woman in front of the LED screen. Dean reached across Seth’s chest and smacked Roman in his ribs, nearly tumbling the lot of them into the floor. I laughed as Roman startled, his focus snapping back to his friends as my presence and the influence I had slowly exerted on Roman began to affect the three friends. Dolph squeezed my waist to get my attention and we walked through the curtain wrapped around each other. I knew I would catch hell at practice in the morning but for the moment I was content with how I performed my role. 

“Hey, what did you say to Seth?” Dolph asked as the camera stayed with us and I saw Dean and Roman glance at the man between them.

“Oh, nothing, merely suggested he might want to find a less easily distracted partner in the future!” I giggled and grinned at Dolph.

“Speaking of partners, aren’t you going to talk to Baron? The match is over, and we won!” Dolph reminded me of our earlier conversation.

“Oh, yes! I almost forgot! Thank you!” I went along with the script and pretended it had slipped my mind.

“What da ya need ta talk ta Baron about?” Drew walked up, arms crossed over his chest and a confused look on his face.

“Well, I have been doing fairly well as your partner the last few weeks and, as I mentioned earlier, I have been training. I talked to Dolph and he suggested it’s time for me to have my first singles match. I was about to go talk to Baron about it. I want this, I want to be more than your sidekick, I want to fight! I can’t hide in your shadow forever!” I explained what I wanted to discuss with Baron and Dolph nodded, encouraging me to advance my career.

“Ya think y’er ready? For what? Y’er just a pretty face who is only good for distracting my opponents. Ya haven’ even finished y’er training yet! Y’er weeks away from being ready for anything! Don’t bother wasting Baron’s time, he’s no’ gonna give ya a match. Go pack y’er bag and get ready to leave!” Drew sternly shattered my hopes and dreams, not sticking around for the aftermath as he stomped off toward his dressing room.

I stared after him nearly in tears and Dolph wrapped an arm around my shoulders, squeezing them, “Who cares what he thinks? Let’s go talk to Baron! I will back you up all the way. It’s high time I took your advice and went on my own again. I think I am done with Drew McIntyre. You should be too.” Dolph encouraged me to defy Drew and talk to our boss.

“Thanks, Dolph, you go ahead. It will be good for you!” I agreed he should break away from Drew and started toward the dressing room.

“Wait, you aren’t coming? But I thought we were going to talk to Corbin together!” He had a moment of panic, reaching for my arm like it was a lifeline.

“I paused in my departure, rotating to look at him with nervous fear on my face, “Should I? What if Drew’s right? What if I’m not ready? What if all I’m good for is eye candy?”

“Hush. Forget what he said. He may not have been paying attention at the gym, but I have, and I’ve seen how hard you have been working. You are ready. And if you don’t try, if you don’t test yourself, you will never get better! Now, come on, I will back you up, one hundred percent. You deserve a chance to prove yourself, kid!” He held out his hand and I took it hesitantly, letting him pull me toward Baron’s office.

The camera cut for the next match and there were a couple of other scenes before we were on screen again. Management had reinstituted the General Manager role after Paige had nearly gotten injured in a fight while supporting her tag team and Baron had blown out his knee in a match against Seth. The General Manager slot kept them active in the company and in the public eye which was good for both of them. When we appeared again I trailed behind Dolph as he strode into Baron’s office, forcing the General Manager to end his phone call to deal with the intrusion.

“What do you want, Ziggler?” Baron asked, annoyed at being interrupted while working.

“I’ve been thinking about my career path for a little while now. Drew has been a decent partner but I’m ready to do my own thing for a little while. I want to go back to working solo for a while.” Dolph explained why he had barged into the office.

“You… You are done… With Drew? Like completely? No more tag matches, no going to the ring together, none of it?” Baron crossed his arms over his chest, not believing Dolph and asking for clarification.

“That’s right! I’m done partnering with him! He’s ungrateful, bossy, and frankly, I have found his attitude insulting as of late. I’m… I’m over it. I’m ready for my life to be a little less intense for a while. I can still win, I know that I can, but it would be more enjoyable without him hovering over me.” Dolph confirmed that he was filing for separation from his tag team partner.

“Okay, I will let Stephanie know. I will warn you this won’t happen right away. In fact, it may take a couple of weeks for her to find you an opponent that isn’t Seth or Roman. I don’t want to get your hopes up or promise something I can’t deliver so be patient okay? Oh, and one more thing, if Management approves this are you going to tell Drew or am I going to be the one that gets stuck letting him know you aren’t partners anymore?” Baron agreed to talk to Management about splitting up Dolph and Drew then wondered who would notify Drew of the changes should they occur.

“Well, you are the General Manager, isn’t that part of your job?” Dolph quipped cheerfully, “Besides, I have a future to plan and matches to prepare for!”

He turned to leave and nearly ran me over, forgetting about my presence in his excitement. He grinned and stepped around me, motioning for me to take my turn. I balked and shook my head, starting toward the door. He took me by the shoulders, turned my smaller frame toward Corbin, and jerked his head in the direction of the taller man with a stern look. I hesitated and he sighed, shoving my reluctant frame forward. I quickly stepped back in the direction I’d come, and he gave me a quick swat on the ass to encourage me to follow through with my promise. I took a couple of halting steps forward, hoping the tall man with the shaved head wouldn’t notice me but the crack of Dolph’s hand off my rear drew his attention. I flushed as he looked me up and down, grinning in appreciation of what he saw, and he tilted his head.

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Baron Corbin, the General Manager of RAW. Who is this angel from the bastion of all things beautiful and graceful whose company I have been blessed with?” He held out his hand as he flirted with me.

I hesitantly put my hand in his and he bent over it. He kissed the back of my hand as he raised it to his lips, dark eyes watching my face as he did so. I smiled shyly and glanced away, doing a good job of playing coy as he smirked and took this as a cue to pursue his interest. He released my hand when I pulled on it and followed my movements as I clasped my hands in front of my stomach. His gaze openly traveled upward to pause at my chest and enjoyed the view, my present posture giving my breasts a prominence I generally avoided. I could see I had his attention and despite never having worked with him before, I suspected if I played my cards right I could ask him for anything I wanted he would hand it to me.

“Hi, um, that’s because I um, I’m new. I um, I’m Morgan. It uh, it’s nice to meet you. I um, I was wondering if um, if I could ask you for a um, a match?” I inquired, playing the shy, sweet girl to the hilt.

Shawn told me later Hunter had removed his headset and muted his mic, wiping away tears as he laughed. The acting made him guffaw to the point no one at the production table could hear anything else. Stephanie was amused, believing I was anything but sweet, and after watching hours of NXT film she knew that shy was not in my vocabulary. She was also grateful Vince wasn’t present to watch this, the vacation he’d finally been convinced to take having lasted almost a month. She knew having me on a brand show was playing with fire and when Vince found out he would be furious. He’d nearly fired her and Hunter when he found out I was on NXT, losing his mind in the boardroom the day he’d learned I’d become the Women’s Champion for the black and gold brand. He had threatened to shut down Hunter’s pet project and all of their developmental leagues if I weren’t fired immediately and included the hint of pending unemployment for his daughter and son-in-law as additional intimidation. He reminded them of their legally binding contract and warned them they were damned close to breaking it and that sent Stephanie into a tirade. She railed at Hunter for letting me participated in NXT, but Hunter calmly pointed out I was doing everything above board. He added I was contracted under my birth name not my adopted one and I’d never once eluded to the fact that he or any of the McMahons were family. She’d huffed and stormed off, annoyed he’d bested them both while Vince snarled and growled but couldn’t do anything about the situation, knowing I was not in legal violation of anything. They attempted to get revenge on Hunter by throwing me into a Royal Rumble as entrant number one at the next Pay-Per-View, but I won the whole thing and the fans had loved it. I walked away bruised and limping but that didn’t compare to the damage done to my relationship with my stepfamily.

Now as I stood in front of Baron and flirted sweetly Hunter roared with laughter, amused by this farce. He knew my personality in and out of the ring and this shy act was performance art at its finest. I might be quiet at times but shy and I were the furthest thing from friends and the sickly-sweet behavior was over the top acting. He knew I took what I wanted in every aspect of my life and especially in the wrestling world. In NXT I’d been likened to a honey badger in that regard, my fierce drive and fighting style giving the name credence. My inability to remain pinned had led some to call me Bunny, inferring I was in constant motion. When a commentator got tongue-tied one evening the names became blended into Honey Bunny and it had stuck until I moved to the main roster, a favorite chant of fans any time I was in the ring to the chagrin of my opponents. Seeing me standing in front of Baron asking to be given a match so politely played into the Honey part but my dad and stepmom knew the Badger was lurking just below the surface. 

“Now, why would a pretty little thing like you want a match? Wouldn’t you rather be a commentator or a manager?” Baron seemed surprised, wondering why I wanted to get into the ring.

“Please, I um, I’ve been training really hard and I um, I think I could um, the fans seem to really like me and I um, I think I could win. Please, I’m um, I’m just asking for one chance! This is my dream! Please!” I begged sweetly, stumbling over my words as I kept the shy thing going.

My hands went behind my back as I looked at the floor then up at him through my lashes. The toe of my shoe ground against the carpet like a teen inquiring if her dad would let her go to a party she knew she shouldn’t be attending. Baron glanced over my head at Dolph and the blond gave him a nod and a wink.

“Your dream huh? Well, why don’t we sit down and discuss your training and this match you are asking for. I’m sure we can work something out. Dolph, you won’t mind if we chat alone, would you?” Baron suggested, playing to the lecherous side of things.

“I will check on you in a few minutes. I need to step outside and make a phone call.” Dolph promised to wait for me.

Baron showed me to a couch, and we sat down to talk, his arm going around my shoulders, “So about this match…”

The cameras cut off there signaling the end of the scene, but Baron didn’t let me escape right away. He spent a few minutes talking to me, trying to get to know me before he let me leave. I could tell he was interested, his slick charm showing all the signs of someone who had spotted something they desired and intended to own it. Once I was permitted to go I walked back to the locker room to change and pack. I didn’t know where the guys were or how soon they would be done, suspecting that at least one of them was in the training room. I walked back to gorilla and waited for a commercial break to kiss Shawn and Hunter on the cheek and let them know I was going to the airport. They cautioned me to be safe and I assured them I was going straight to the plane. They hugged me and said goodnight, sending me on my way with their blessings. A company car was waiting for me and I climbed inside, relaxing as the driver took me to the airport and the hanger from which the chartered flight would leave. When he pulled up in front of the hanger I climbed out and grabbed my bag from the rear, pulling it to the baggage handlers to be loaded into the plane. I boarded the flight home content with my performance, the only dark spot on my night being Seth and his injuries. He sat in the row ahead of mine with a bag of ice on his groin and a grimace of pain on his face. I felt terrible for injuring him and leaned forward to touch his shoulder. He turned toward my touch and I apologized softly, remorseful for having hurt him. He reminded me that I’d been doing my job and while he was in pain he also appreciated my efforts during the match. It did little to make me feel better, but I knew he was correct, and I would repeat the performance if needed at a later date. Once everyone arrived and boarded we made ourselves comfortable and tried to sleep as the plane left the ground. Hunter dozed beside me as we flew home, our bodies exhausted after a long thirty-six hours and the stress of performing for fans and managing those performances. The changes in air pressure woke us and we sat up, groggily gathering personal belongings we had gotten out and returning them to our carry-on bags. We held on to the straps and handles of our luggage and once the post-flight checks were complete we stumbled to the exit. We trudged down the stairs and grabbed the bags waiting for us by the steps as we reached the ground. We drug and carried our luggage to the van to be loaded while we found seats, wanting to return to the hotel poste haste. We settled in as the last of the bags were placed in the rear of the van and dozed for the duration of the short drive to the hotel. While the guys piled out of the van Hunter touched my arm and I waited with him. They grabbed their bags and strode inside heading for their rooms. When they had gone through the doors Hunter and I climbed out and took our bags and walked through the lobby together, heading for the elevators.

“So, how was your night?” He teased, the twinkle in his eyes telling me he knew everything. “Make any new friends?”

“Baron’s interested, or I think he is? Maybe I am reading too much into it. This was the first time I have interacted with him directly, but he definitely liked what he saw. Unfortunately for him, I think he may end up disappointed.” I told him through sleepy giggles, my hand waving to punctuate the words as I tried to explain my thoughts through a sleep fog.

He held the elevator doors so I could drag my trunk inside, “Oh? Why do you say that?”

“I think Roman may ask Morgan out first. We will have to see.” I replied, smirking as I shared an observation, sleepily leaning against the wall.

“Oh really? Is there something I should know?” Hunter’s amused curiosity was tinged with Dad overtones as he leaned back against the wall of the lift.

“He kisses like a dream, but that kiss felt different from the first one. He…” I paused for a second. “It felt like he didn’t want to stop. I think…” I sighed, “I might be wrong, but I think he’s interested? I um, I’m not um, I’m not sure if it is Roman or Joe though. His mouth says one thing at the gym but um, his kiss in the ring contradicts him. I um, I think he might be uh, might be attracted to me?” I shrugged, trying to puzzle out the intentions and desires of my coworker while explaining what I thought and felt to my dad.

“He’s attracted to you and wary of you in both aspects of his personality. The divorce was settled a few months ago and it was ugly. She did a number on him in the months leading up to him filing for separation and even after the divorce proceedings began she played games with his head. His emotional state is still a bit raw from what I can tell, and it is making him cautious. In the ring, he’s not been hurt romantically but he sees who you come to the ring with every week and it makes him question your intentions. Be sweet, gentle, and a bit sexy away from the ring and you might get his attention. Give him the chance to get to know you and you might keep it.” Hunter offered a reason for Joe’s tentative interest in me. “But that brings us back to Baron and your observations. He nice enough but his dating history since his divorce is probably more extensive than you will be comfortable with. They’ve been short relationships that ended amicably but there have been a number of them. He plays the heel well but away from the show he’s a good guy. You could be happy with either of them.” I stared at him stunned as he gave me permission to pursue a relationship with either man, encouraged it even.

“Um, Dad?” I blinked, confused, and he laughed.

“It doesn’t have to be a long term relationship honey but a date or two wouldn’t hurt you. You could have a quick fling for all I care, just something to get you back into the dating scene. Having you happy and healthy is my greatest desire in life and if either of those men can help you achieve that goal I’m okay with it. That’s all I’m saying.” Hunter informed me of his desire to see me happy.

“Thank you, Daddy. I will keep it in mind. I’m glad you are supportive of my decisions and not upset.” I smiled sleepily and straightened as the elevator dinged our arrival on our floor.

We ambled to our rooms in silence, content with the discussion we’d had, and said goodnight. We swiped our keycards and opened our doors as we parted ways. I pulled my trunk behind me as I crossed to the bedroom and set it beside the dresser to be unpacked in the morning. I spent a few minutes preparing for bed and tugging on my pajamas before I slid into bed and succumbed to the darkness.


	6. Death is never Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When her second adoptive father, the UnderTaker, comes for a visit the guys begin to look at Cailin differently. The next night they follow her to a carnival and things do not go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STOP. STOP. STOP. Do NOT read any further if violence, assault, or rape are a trigger. This chapter is violent and assault does occur. It is part of the latter portion of the chapter so you can read through the visit from the Undertaker but please don't go passed that. Thank you!

Chapter 6  
The chirp of my alarm sank slowly into my consciousness, a random noise in my dreams that I gradually identified, and I reached for my phone. The screen showed the time and my eyes widened, consciousness snapping into existence as I realized I’d overslept by ten minutes. I darted through my room, scooping up the clothes I would need or the day and tossing them on the bed. I added shoes to the pile as I located them and turned toward the bathroom. I staggered to the shower and scrubbed up, dried off, and brushed my hair and teeth. I pulled on the first set of clothing I would wear for the day and the rest was shoved into my bag in a messy fashion. I grumbled about oversleeping and shoved my feet in flip-flops. I snatched up my wallet, phone, and keycard on my way out the door and muttered about being unprepared for my day all the way to the elevator. My hair was loose and floating behind me as I strode down the hall, something the guys weren’t used to seeing and Nick and Colby discussed it as they followed me to the lifts. My hands worked quickly to gather the long red locks into a high ponytail I then twisted into my usual bun as I lengthened my strides and rounded the corner well ahead of them. They chuckled, recognizing the urgency of someone late for a meeting or class in my actions and commented on it while they waited for the next elevator to arrive. I had caught a car down before they reached the landing and I was scrambling toward the table where Hunter waited as they exited their lift and ambled out of the hotel to find their breakfast. From there the week settled into the routine I’d come to know with breakfast, practice, ballet, gymnastics, dinner, and some form of additional exercise class after the meal before returning to the hotel to sleep. The Wednesday practice focused on my match with Liv on Monday and I got to work with my opponent for the day. Hunter had bumped it up two weeks to give us a match at the next Pay-Per-View event and scheduled time for us to get to know each other. The knowledge I was going to be fighting and had a chance to show my skills in the ring soon made me giddy. I had to force myself to keep my moves routine, show her basic rookie behaviors, and stick to sequences she found familiar and comfortable to avoid giving anything away. She left later in the day to catch up with her partners certain in the knowledge I was just another rookie, an upstart with a cute face and a few skills, and completely clueless about how good I truly was inside the squared circle.

On Thursday of our fourth week we had an unexpected visitor and his mere presence was enough to rattle the men I worked with. The Undertaker watched us work, studied how we interacted, and he had a grin on his face the whole time. He had worked with everyone in the gym except me and they all respected Mark and his work ethic as well as the legacy of his character. He, in turn, showed them the respect they earned. The longer he watched the more he appreciated the work I put in, my lack of tolerance for cutting corners, and the way I forced the guys to perform better amusing him. Every minute he stayed further piqued the interest of the men, their curiosity at his presence and the attention he gave me growing with every critique of my skills and behavior. It was intriguing and worrisome all the same to have the Dead Man in the building. He noted that I moved well, dodging the guys easily, and pulled tricks no one expected when I couldn’t juke fast enough. He grinned whenever I took a bump, the way I took the hit, slamming my hands to the mat while writhing and curling up on the floor to sell it making him chuckle. The smile only grew as I got up time and again, refusing to stay down, and jumped back into the fray no matter how hard the hit I had taken. I took swings at and from men stronger, heavier, and larger than I yet I never backed down or quit even after Drew caught me with a vicious chop to the chest that leveled me and knocked the wind from my lungs. He heckled, hollered, harassed, and made rude and snide comments to me the entire time we practiced. He did everything in his power to distract the participants in the ring to no avail and that made the grin wider. When I got frustrated and decided to adjust attitudes in the ring by performing one of my harebrained stunts he beamed. He nearly roaring with laughter as I knocked the men down, threw them to the floor, and created chaos for some ten minutes without stopping.

He stood at ringside, beaming with pride as he watched every move I made and nodded. He found the whole morning a rousing success and amusing to watch. He agreed silently that the girl had not only integrated well with the men she had been sent to work with but she’d been right about the idea of twins. He decided I would be good for the name, for the fans, and for the men I sparred with. I deserved the name without question based on what he had seen in practice and in the brand shows. My demeanor, drive, and stubborn tenacity displayed throughout practice a strong showing of the same characteristics that had made the Undertaker one of the fans favorite wrestlers and a deadly opponent in the ring. While I shared those traits with the man that would be my twin we seemed to have split some of the others. He had seen how Clint fared the day before. The young man worked out and trained at the Performance Center with Finn Balor, Kevin Owens, Dean Ambrose, and Mojo Rawley. The progress he’d made pleased Mark and made him a proud pseudo-papa. While his ‘daughter’ had received his agility and speed, his 'son' had gotten the strength and brawling abilities. I flew high and tumbled with grace to the delight of the fans. Clint stood in the ring and battered his opponents until they were bloodied and bruised, and the fans gasped in shock. There was little doubt these were the offspring of the most feared wrestler of all time. Marked was grinning from ear to ear as he pulled me aside right before I had to leave for ballet.

“You look great and you handled that exceptionally well. I have made girls at the Performance Center cry just by leaning on their apron during a spar. You never even blinked. That’s good. Shows you aren’t scared. I think we have chosen well and you will do the name the justice it deserves.” He grinned at me and praised my work. “You were spot on with the idea of twins but don’t tell Stephanie I said that. This is going to be amazing and if you two can pull it off the fans are going to love it. I am looking forward to seeing Vince’s face when you win your first match. Make me proud on Monday.” He knew about my family life since he’d gotten to watch me grow up.

He kissed my forehead blessing my character and future in the business and walked out. Once he strolled away I checked the time and saw I had minutes until I had to leave for class. I scrambled for the showers and I was certain I would be late for class. The guys watched me sprint for the locker room with confusion on their features. The extent of my day was lost on them even after three weeks of training together. When I’d disappeared into the locker room their attention returned to practicing their fight. They ran through each move at a variety of speeds and with various and sundry modifications as they tried to add variety to the match. Working with me had drawn out their natural competitive natures and they were pushing themselves to keep up with my talent. They were adding new moves to their list of skills, trying different ways of performing old moves, and running current mainstays in different sequences to refresh the act. It was making their practices harder and longer but improving their overall wrestling and acting skills tremendously and the fans were beginning to take notice. 

They were walking through a new series of moves when a flash of color caught Joe’s attention from the corner of his eye and he paused to track it. I was striding toward the door in pink tights, a royal blue leotard that clung to my body like a second skin, and a black skirt that appeared to be made of several layers of sheer material. He blinked and stared, following my departure across the room. Everyone else noticed he had frozen and turned to see what had piqued his interest. The four men walked over to lean on the ropes and observe as I strode out at a clip, bag slung over my shoulder. Shawn had mentioned outside lessons more than once to them but it hadn’t sunk in until that moment he’d been serious. This new revelation raised more questions and left ones they’d already had unanswered. The secretive redhead did everything in her power to avoid telling them anything about herself unless it was relevant to the present discussion and even then it was vague.

“Damn. Well, I did not see that coming. I guess when Shawn said she dances he wasn’t joking!” Colby commented softly, stunned.

“It explains a lot of her movements. Combine ballet with gymnastics and wrestling and you’ve got the perfect athlete. When you add in her attitude you get a talent that is hell on wheels.” Nick agreed.

“I’m less intrigued by her ability to dance the Sugar Plum Fairy and more curious about her ties to the Undertaker. That’s not bothering any of you?” Joe’s random perspective shift made everyone gawk at him, befuddled by his train of thought.

“Bruh, she just walked out of here in an outfit that left little to the imagination and you are hung up on the Undertaker? You aren’t right my friend. Where is your head at? Are you even human?” Colby asked him, perplexed and disappointed by his friend.

Joe shrugged, glancing at Colby sidelong, and shook his head, “We need to get back to practice.”

He pushed away from the ropes and ambled to the center of the ring to resume working. Drew joined him and they began to put together choreography for their next match. The others reluctantly followed suit and soon everyone was engrossed in their work, the images of their coworker in her snug clothing soon forgotten. I didn’t realize they’d seen me, the frantic dash outside echoed by a similar sprint into the studio when I arrived. I tugged on my canvas ballet shoes and pulled my point shoes from my bag. I left the duffle and my flipflops in my cubby as I marched into the main studio and slid into my place on the bar with a minute to spare. Our instructor walked in glaring at all of us as she inspected the row of dancers waiting for class to begin. She paused beside me and gave me a harsh look before proceeding on her stroll and I flushed, suspecting she knew I had squeaked into the room just in time. I spent the entire class working hard and avoiding any further attention from her. The ballet company was preparing their collection of shows for the fall and currently engaged in an intense period of classes and rehearsals as they learned a series of ballets in their entirety over a few short weeks. They were doing Carmen, Alice in Wonderland, The Nutcracker, Cinderella, La Bayadere, and Anna Karenina over the course of the fall months beginning in September and the rehearsals were tense. I was the only person in rehearsals that was not actively performing despite the instructors, choreographer, and director begging me to dance solos in most of the ballets and the lead in La Bayadere. I hated to break their hearts and agreed to understudy every part and tackle the occasional performance as my schedule allowed. That pacified them enough to allow me to continue dancing with the company and I was pushed to give more to ballet than I had before. 

I worked my ass off every class and rehearsal even though I wasn’t dancing in the majority of the performances. In the three weeks I’d been at the studio I learned each part of every show which aggravated the rest of the class. I kept my head down, danced the combinations and variations demanded by the instructors, and focused on getting the most out of every class and rehearsal while avoiding confrontations with the other dancers. The class and rehearsal went well, and I enjoyed the work, sweating and mumbling to myself as she demanded more from us. She pushed the dancers to go higher, faster, lower, straighter, extend fuller, and be ever more graceful! I never considered giving up my other classes when I began to wrestle, and I was grateful I hadn’t on a daily basis. The correlations I had found between the two improved all aspects of my work and who I was. Now the leg strength I used to give myself flight in the ring and on the uneven bars during gymnastics allowed me to jump higher, further, and extend more gracefully than many other young women in the company. The core strength needed for pirouettes while on pointe shoes coupled nicely with the movements in gymnastics. The exercises on the floor, beam, and uneven bars all made my abs ache but permitted me to flip, cartwheel, walkover, and tumble around my opponents with ease. With both ballet and gymnastics came one thing every wrestler struggled with, an awareness of my body in time and space in the ring. Performing in ballets with other performers and playing hockey through college added the constant vigilance in the presence of moving parts and pieces one must have while working around other people. This permitted me to predict my opponent’s movements as I learned the choreography that was wrestling and permitted me to excel at the numbers game. Gymnastics gave me an appreciation for and creative ways to use the ropes, treating the taut strands like uneven bars to give myself an advantage. Every aspect of my training and education went in to improving my wrestling and giving myself every opportunity should life in the squared circle not work out.

As dance let out I walked swiftly to the bathroom and grabbed my bag. I snagged a stall as it emptied and traded my tights, leotard, and skirt for a black sports bra, skin-tight tank in wine, and a pair of black booty shorts. I covered the snug-fitting clothing with jeans and a large t-shirt bearing the logo of a retired wrestler I’d looked up to. I stepped into my flipflops and shoved my ballet clothes into my bag. I grabbed the strap and headed for the door, trying to ignore the cotton candy pink walls and gray trim. It was difficult to take life seriously when surrounded by such bright, cheerful colors and I couldn’t help smile as I walked out. I climbed into the SUV and it set into motion before I managed to buckle in. I wondered how the men in my life would react if I showed up to practice in something so obviously girly and the mental images of their faces made me giggle. Colby would shake his head, Nick would chuckle, and Drew and Joe would roll their eyes and tell me to change. One of them would threaten to send me back to Stephanie if I couldn’t be a professional, probably Drew, and when I walked away all of them would take a minute to acknowledge that yes, I was female and looked the part for once. I calmed down and sobered when I heard my phone ding and I pulled it from my bag. I turned on the device to see I had messages, emails, and a lone voicemail. The recorded message told me a representative from the company building my ring gear would be at my hotel early Sunday morning to fit my initial set of gear. I switched to my messages and saw I had two from Steph. The first stated everyone in my camp thought I was performing well and working hard. The second was a follow-up to the Undertaker’s visit; apparently, my pseud-sire had been most pleased with what he’d seen and was looking forward to Monday and to SummerSlam. The messages made me smile, a weight lifted from my shoulders as my future in the business seemed a little more secure. My last text was from Hunter letting me know he’d flown to Connecticut for the day and would return in the morning. I furrowed my brow, the spontaneous nature of the trip inducing me to inquire if everything was alright. I knew he excelled at his job and if he’d been called out of town suddenly a crisis had come up. Either someone had been injured, there had been a severe departure from the storyline during a show, or a talent had self-combusted. 

I felt the SUV ease to a stop and closed my phone, debarking to run through the rain toward the entrance of the warehouse-like building that housed the gymnastics gym. In contrast to the cheerful pastels of the dance studio and gray gloom outside the white walls, fluorescent lights, and deeper hues of the mats, bars, and foam pits were enough to give you a headache. I marched to my locker and put my bag inside. I shed the cover-ups and tossed them and the flipflops on top of the duffle. Slamming the door closed I ambled in to the gym and joined the rest of the gymnasts who waited for the session to begin. Most of the women and the handful of men were younger than I by a few years and many of them were students at The University of Southern Florida. They were on the cheer, spirit, and gymnastics teams for the school. I was one of a handful of students that weren’t attached to the college and half of a pair of wrestler, the other a young man that was contracted to the Pensacola Developmental League but trained in Tampa. The instructors treated us all the same, gave us equal instruction and held us to the same standards. They refused to accept excuses or defeatism from any of us and demanded our best performance, wanted to see us progress daily. Today was no exception and I found myself a sweaty mess as I pushed through the repetitions, demanding perfection from my body despite struggling with the routine. The coach I was working with pulled me from the uneven bars and walked me through the sequence of tricks. She was searching for where I went wrong and why I struggled to complete the routine and stick the landing. Once I identified the issues they sent me back to the bars to try it again and after another dozen attempts I finally got it right.

They moved me to another exercise and things progressed. The workout wrapped up and they took us through a cool down. While we stretched out the couches praised us and exhorted some to do better. One of the coaches encouraged me to start squatting more weight to improve the strength in my legs. I blinked, momentarily losing focus as they said it and choked back laughter as I listened and nodded in agreement. I knew I could squat nearly double my body weight and had proven it by lifting Drew and Colby from the floor in the last week. I deliberately avoided muscling through the routines to prevent receiving an earful about my lack of grace yet I was now being told to muscle through! I found it hilarious and snickered once the coach walked away. I finished my cool down and the class walked to the locker rooms, talking as we changed clothes. I tugged on my cover-ups and snagged my bag from the locker, dropping my flipflops on the floor. I stepped into them and slung the strap of my bag over my chest and walked out. I climbed into the SUV for the drive to the hotel and Dave, the middle-aged driver with white hair and cheery blue eyes asked about my day and my plans for the evening. I opened my mouth to admit I had none and nearly bit off my tongue, startled by the sudden ringing of my phone in my hand.

I answered and it was one of the ladies from NXT. I was scheduled to work with her the next two days in preparation for my match and her call surprised me. I knew she trained at the Performance Center and lived in the area but hadn’t expected her to want to hang out. By the time Dave pulled the SUV under the portico she’d talked me into meeting her at a carnival on the fairgrounds for dinner and a concert. I agreed to the evening out in lieu of my barre class that evening. Dave laughed as he listened to my end of the conversation, my facial expressions forcing him to drive one-handed while smothering the noise of his guffaws with the other. He pulled up and parked in the loading zone until I could end the call and step out of the vehicle. When I got off the phone he promised to be out front in an hour to go to the carnival. I rolled my eyes and thanked him as I shut the door. I strode through the lobby, searching for and not seeing my coworkers, and for some reason I was relieved. I had already agreed to plans I dreaded and dealing with them was one more thing I wasn’t in the mood for. Feeling safe I trotted on to the open elevator and stood near the front of the full car. I checked my messages as we rose through the floor and saw Hunter had answered me. He assured me it was the routine quarterly meetings and asked how my day went. I replied with my daily update, adding my dinner plans along with a vomiting face emoji that had him roaring with laughter as he forwarded it to Shawn.

The doors opened on my floor and I strode off. I focused on my screen as a I looked up information about the carnival and its location, heading to my room by rote. The guys got off behind me and kept their distance as they followed me down the hall. When I stopped and swiped my keycard they paused and waited for me to enter the room before walking by, making a note of the room number. They disappeared into the rooms Colby and Nick occupied after assurances they would be ready in thirty minutes and discussions about their female cohort began behind closed doors. Once I was inside my room I dropped my bag in the middle of the floor and headed to my bedroom to pick out clothes for the evening. I showered, changed, let my hair down, and put on some makeup. While I brushed my hair I tried to accept that I was going out with a woman I barely knew in a crowded location. It was the perfect set up for a panic attack and I dreaded the outing a little more. I grabbed my purse, room key, and phone before I left. The guys were showered and changed, their meet up time putting them in the hall as I exited my room and pulled the door shut behind me. I walked up the hall without acknowledging them, my conversation with Hunter ongoing. Colby chuckled as he observed Joe giving my departing frame a once over, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he tried to conceal his interest.

“You do realize that she’s a woman, right?” Colby nudged his best friend teasingly.

“Yes, Colby, I can see that she’s a woman, an attractive one at that. I won’t lie, I appreciate the view even when she kicking my ass at work. I will be honest though, I’m not certain I want to get involved with that. If she’s Taker’s child she’s going to be trouble.” Joe replied in a quiet growl.

“You really think she’s Taker’s kid?” Colby indulged Joe’s paranoia for a minute, sighing as he waited for the reason behind it.

“How many natural redheaded young wrestlers do you see running around? And this soon after he retired? Nah, if she belongs to any of the older wrestlers it would be Taker. You saw how much attention he gave her today and they only do that for two reasons, either the kid is theirs or they are going to put them over. If she needs to be put over they would use a woman and she’s clearly got Hunter’s blessing based on how much attention he gives her.” Joe began to explain his thought process. “Then again, Hunter and Steph have been having problems so maybe that is his new girlfriend? But if he’s not dating her the only reason I can see anyone from the McMahon clan being kind to the kid is if she is second generation from a line they respect. Who else do they respect more than Taker? You know their history and how the family feels about him. Trust me, if she’s Taker’s child it would explain H’s interest in her and why the old man was at the gym so long today.” Colby was mildly disturbed with how logical Joe was being as he pointed out the woman they’d been working with was the daughter of death himself.

“Damn, okay, when you phrase it like that I can see your point. I guess we should have seen it coming. Taker was a huge draw and it is a legacy they wouldn’t want to let go.” Colby sighed as they watched me go.

I’d showered, brushed out my hair and left it loose, the day spent in a bun giving it loose finger curls. I’d put on makeup and donned a sundress with wedge heeled sandals in hues complementing my coloring. Now as I marched down the hall, clutch under my arm and phone in my hand, I made a quick safety call to Shawn. I told him my plans, where I would be, who I was with, and when I thought I would be back. Upon my request he agreed to check on me at intervals to make sure I was safe and we rang off. His knowledge of my past and our bond as wrestler and trainer made him willing to be my lifeline if I needed one. He called Hunter when our call was over and confirmed what I’d already told my dad about my plans for the evening. Hunter asked Shawn to keep him informed to which Shawn readily agreed. Hunter checked in with me a few minutes later and the discussion continued through my walk to the SUV. I climbed in and Dave teased that I was dressed for shopping at the mall or dinner with friends at a restaurant and not an evening at the beach as he drove us to the Expo Center and fairgrounds the carnival was using as its location. If I’d been paying attention instead of stressing over my evening to Hunter via my phone I might have seen the guys following me, their curiosity leading them to tail my vehicle to the boardwalk. Dave promised to wait for me but I argued I could get a taxi or Uber back to the hotel. He refused to leave citing a promise he’d made to my dad to look out for me. I sighed, throwing up my hands as I bit my tongue. I nearly slipped and asked him which dad he meant but stopped myself in the nick of time and closed the door.

**** STOP!!! IF YOU HAVE TRIGGERS THIS IS WHERE YOU WANT TO STOP. PLEASE ENJOY THE NEXT CHAPTER!!****

 

I dove into the throng of people and wove my way through the rows of attractions toward the meeting point. Kacy had chosen the Ferris wheel and I could see why. The large ride towered over everything else and was obvious from the parking lot and the road. I found her with a group of her friends and she bounced over to hug me by way of greeting. This surprised me and I returned it, albeit stiffly, and did my best to properly socialize. She introduced me as Cailin O’Reilly and I smiled, shaking hands with everyone. I noted who seemed nice, who flirted, and the disinterested parties and tried to remember everyone’s name. Kacy suggested we walk around for a little bit before getting food and the others agreed. They wanted to see the booths, play games, and ride a few of the attractions before we ate and went to the concert. The group began to walk the makeshift aisles and rows of food, games, rides, and vendors. As we ambled around taking in the sights a couple of the guys flirted with me and I retreated into the shy, sweet girl routine. They tried to draw me out and make me smile with their small talk and casual observations but mostly I nodded and shrugged. The games and crafts did elicit some smiles and the occasional giggle when someone won, or we found something odd or unique. It was the openly inappropriate comments they made that caused me to blush and the group quickly began to tease Kacy and I about being too good for them and so pure they couldn’t hang around us anymore. We protested their teasing, pointing out that we worked in a PG environment that frowned heavily on the kinds of jokes they were making. We informed them they were being unkind for teasing us about appearing virginal when our employment and the personas we presented the fans forced us to avoid those kinds of topics in public. The truth was the guys often made similar comments and we all swore during practice. The guys found it highly amusing when I would rattle off curses in several languages in succession, easily flowing from one to the next without a hiccup or thought. The blush that warmed my cheeks came from the blatant sexuality of the comments made and their crude nature. 

The guys decided they had seen enough and drug the group back to the food court, declaring themselves starved to the point of near-death which made the ladies giggle. We wandered around the food carts, checking out their offerings and making suggestions about what sounded good for the moment and what could be fun to eat later. The more I saw the less I wanted to eat, the options were appealing for all the wrong reasons and it made me a little nauseated. I kept to a strict diet for health reasons and for peak performance and most of the menus were in direct conflict with my routine nutritional intake. The hardest part of walking around the stalls was resisting the fried foods, especially the sweet ones, but I forced myself to find something that was somewhat healthy at an Asian food cart. The Pho was a favorite and something I ate while on the road or when I felt sick. A bottle of water, a box with the accouterments, and a plastic to-go bucket of broth went with me to the table Kacy picked out. I sat down with the members of the group that had returned and began to add noodles and meat to the broth. I tried to be observant and track where everyone from our group went but traffic was heavy through the area and it was impossible to keep them all in view. I focused on my group and my food and didn’t see my coworkers sit down at a table nearby. I hadn’t seen them following me all evening nor did I spy the scowls on their faces as I tried to relax and fit in. I flirted a little as we chatted between bites, doing my best to be comfortable with a group of complete strangers. By all indications I was doing it right, their laughter and encouragement making it easier to relax. The men I worked with had a far quieter meal than mine. Between bites their attention was on my observing my interactions with the group, monitoring my well-being, and analyzing every twitch the group made in an attempt to protect their coworker. I appeared to be enjoying myself and I seemed safe for the moment based on their study of my behavior. They weren’t certain and based their theory on my facial expressions and body language which read comfortably content. As a group we talked laughed, flirted, and joked between bites and the guys in the group seemed determined to make someone spit food or drink across the table. The ladies rolled their eyes and did their best to remain calm and maintain order. The males made us gasp and choke a few times with remarks that were slightly scandalous and I was shocked by their vulgar behavior. I silently compared their antics to the behaviors of the men I spent most of my days with and found a new appreciation for the older males in my life and their maturity and sense. Finally, I said something ridiculously off-color that caused not one person but three people to simultaneously snort soda out their noses and the table roared with cheers and laughter. The coughing and cheering dulled long enough to declare I’d won the night and they went back to talking over each other in raucous fashion. Joe started to get up as we grew noisy but Drew pulled him back to his seat with a hand on his arm.

“Relax, they’re just horsing around. She’s said somethin’ funny and they appreciated it. Ta girl has a wicked sense of humor when ya get ‘er going. She’s probably earned t’ose cheers.” Drew smirked at him, firsthand knowledge of my wit bringing on the smile.

“Hey, check out those guys! Do you know them? They looks like bodybuilders You know they have been staring at us since we sat down. I bet they think you are hot Kacy!” One of the guys in the group pointed over my shoulder and Kacy and I turned to follow his finger.

The guys caught a lucky break as a large group of people threaded through the tables and obscured our view. We weren’t able to see who had been pointed out and we turned back to the table with a shrug. Our attention returned to the food and friends and the meal wound down. I finished eating last but I’d made everyone laugh so I received a reprieve. We gathered our trash and made sure to clean the tables before we walked away. We deposited the detritus in the proper bins and started toward the midway and the amphitheater. We had a half-hour to kill and we wandered the rows of vendors and games stopping here and there to indulge in curiosity or play a quick round. One of the guys, a brunet male about Colby’s height with more chub than muscle, looped an arm around my shoulders and began to talk softly in my ear. I could smell the beer he’d drunk and it reminded me of my ex when we would go out. It made me uncomfortable and the comments and questions he shared were making me begin to panic. I pulled away and tried to put distance between us but he wasn’t backing off, catching up to me easily and wrapping an arm around my waist. Joe glared daggers at the guy as they followed the group through the stalls. It took several nudges from Colby to distract him from the visual assault and he realized people were moving out of their way. Colby shook his head at his friend, silently chiding him while the other two laughed at Joe’s overly protective and somewhat jealous demeanor where I was concerned. It turned out he had been right to be cautious regarding my safety and the man that draped himself around me.

We were walking up an aisle of booths that backed up to the expo hall and some of the people in the group went into a couple of the stalls. We were a dozen yards or more ahead of the guys and they were trying to maintain that buffer while keeping an eye on me. They lost sight of my red hair when a group of giggling teens cut them off and they had to wait for the children to move on. By then the group had disappeared into the crowd as we approached the walk into the expo hall from the fairgrounds. The overly amorous male I was walking beside decided to take advantage of the throng and pulled us through a gap between booths. He followed a path that led down to a service and maintenance area that gave us some privacy and was away from the view of the public. I pushed at him and protested with the intention of returning to the group. He shifted his body toward mine and used the arm around my waist to pull me flush against his chest. Before I could say anything he leaned down and kissed me, attempting to push his tongue into my mouth. Stunned I stood frozen for a second before pulling away and scowling at him. He took a step toward me and I backed up instinctively, little warning bells beginning to sound in my head. My back was against the wall of the building behind me and I had no room to run. His hands came up and he held me against the wall with a hand on my hip while the other slid into my hair. He held me firmly as he kissed me again, any hint of romance that might have been present gone. 

I pulled away from the kiss a second time with a firmly stated, “NO!” 

I slapped him but I didn’t put my full strength into the strike and that was my mistake and I would regret it. His head turned to the side with the impact and he blinked, stunned that I had hit him. He took a step back and checked his lip for blood and for a second I thought he was faking like Roman did in the ring. I scooted around him and started back the way we had come, hoping to put enough distance between us to prevent the situation from escalating. His hand closed around my wrist as I passed him and he jerked me back, shoving me roughly against the building. I gasped and stared up at him with fear in my eyes. My limbs began to tremble as I recognized all the behaviors of someone who intended to hurt me. He used his body weight to pin my slighter frame against the wall and he kissed me hard. His hand dipped into the top of my sundress to grope at my breasts while the other slid up my thigh to grip my ass. He ground his hips in to mine and I knew he wouldn’t stop without some forcible cause to deter him. I put my hands on his chest and shoved him like I shoved Drew and Joe at work. His startled expression as he nearly fell would have been laughable in any other situation but now it only added to my fear.

“I have already said no once. I’m not going to say it again. I’m going back to the group.” I announced firmly hoping this would be enough to slow him down and make him reconsider.

“You can go when I say we are done, and I’m not done.” He snarled at me as I started to walk away from him.

His hand wrapped around my upper arm, fingers digging into the muscle as he began to whip my smaller frame toward the building once more. My training kicked in and I let my arm slide through his hand until I was held by my wrist and I locked my other hand around his wrist. I rotated on my toes, using my grip on his wrist to turn his momentum against him and he spun passed me. I let his weight carry him to the wall as I let go of his wrist and watched the air go out of his chest. I stepped into him and my arm went to his throat and I leaned into it with the opposite hand, choking him out as I spoke, a calm, deadly look in my eye.

“I said no. I said I was going back to the group. I wasn’t joking. I meant what I said. Next time you touch me I will break your arm. If that doesn’t stop you I will break your other arm. If you still don’t get it I will break your neck. Do you understand?” I snapped at him, too furious that he’d dared attempt to rape me to be rational.

He managed to squeak what might have been a ‘yes, ma’am’ out and his head wiggled in a semblance of a nod. He was seconds away from passing out and when I removed my arm he collapsed. There was something satisfying about watching him slide helplessly down the wall that calmed my fury for the moment. I stomped away while he caught his breath and tried to fix my clothing as I walked. I came out from behind the booths with my arms wrapped around myself in a protective manner, not aware of how mussed I looked. My hair was a tangled mess and I looked disheveled, my lips and arm bruised from where he’d attempted to force me to do his bidding. I scoured the area nearby for Kacy and her friends but I couldn’t find anyone I recognized. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and I felt the panic attack creeping along the edges of my mind. In this state of heightened emotions, I knew it would be impossible to stay at the carnival and be safe. I stopped out of the way of traffic and sent Kacy a text to tell her what had happened and that I was going back to the hotel for the night. Right after that, I sent Dave a text to let him know I was ready to leave and turned my steps in the direction I thought would take me to the parking lot. Joe and Drew saw me emerge from the alley I’d disappeared down and one look at my face and how I was holding myself told them something had happened. The mess that was my hair and the way my clothes were sitting further confirmed this. They got Colby and Nick’s attention and the four men began to track my movements through the crowd, stalking me with the intention of getting me home safely. It didn’t take them long to realize I was lost, wandering aimlessly through the aisles in search of the parking lot. Joe motioned to Colby to intercept me and the brunet nodded. He approached me from the right, his arm winding around my waist. He pulled us from the flow of traffic and I tensed up thinking it was my assailant from earlier. I reacted instantly, my fight or flight instincts still on high alert as I anticipated that the jerk that had attacked me might try to do so again. I swung without a thought, intending to incapacitate him when I tried to put my elbow through his lumbar spine. He felt my muscles bunch warning him of the impending attack and he spun me to press my spine against his chest. His arms wrapped me up and I struggled, shoulders and hips working to create space to permit me to punch him. He held me, absorbing the blows, and talked to me softly. He waited for his voice to filter through to my fear addled brain and he took a few body shots in the process.

“It’s okay, Cailin, I’ve got you. It’s okay, you are safe now. He’s not going to hurt you anymore. You’re safe now, I’ve got you. You’re safe baby, it’s okay. It’s Colby, I’m right here. I’ve got you, you’re safe now…” He said the words over and over in litany, his chest and belly absorbing several blows before it sank in.

He felt the resistance leave me as the words kicked in and I slowly stopped fighting. He waited for me to calm down and relaxed his hold on my torso. I twisted in his arms, trying to see his face and identify him by more than his voice and smell. I needed to know it was him and I really was safe. When I saw it was my friend I collapsed for a second, legs with weak relief and shaking from the adrenaline in my system. I turned in his arms and threw my arms around his neck, grateful it was him and not someone else. He felt the tremors that rattled my body as he held me and gave me a minute to calm down. When he felt I was capable of standing on my own he stepped back to check that I was unharmed. I wouldn’t look him in the eye and pulled from his hands as he tried to examine my arms for injuries. He could see the bruises that were beginning to darken my skin in places but without holding me down and examining me he couldn’t tell if I was physically harmed. The mental trauma was plain to see and part of him wanted to find the guy that had hurt me. When he found him, Colby had every intention of pummeling him into something resembling chunky salsa. The fight or flight response I was in hinted I had been in true danger and the bruises corroborated the notion. He smiled sadly and nodded in a direction opposite where we stood, holding out his hand to indicate we should start walking.

“Come on, little one, let’s get you home. I think you have had all you can handle for one night. Besides, isn’t it your bedtime?” He teased me with a smile, trying to diffuse the situation and be gentle with me at the same time.

“My bedtime? It isn’t even nine PM! Are you implying I’m a child? Or maybe I’m old?” My eyes narrowed angrily as I demanded an answer, irate that he would mock me.

“I’m saying you have had a rough night and could use some rest.” He tried for a third option but I wasn’t having it.

“Oh, so now you are saying I’m delicate? Am I so fragile I can’t make my own decisions? Next you are going to say I can’t take care of myself!” I snapped at him as he led us through the crowd.

“I don’t what he’s said to her but she’s pissed!” Drew heard Nick chuckle as they watched Colby struggle to get me to cooperate.

“Yeah I do not see this ending well. He’s made her angry.” Drew concurred as Joe nodded with a grin.

“I’m not saying you are delicate! Hell I know better! I’m saying you have had a bad night and you have an early morning tomorrow. Maybe it would be a good time to call it an evening and head home!” Colby floundered, further irritating me.

“I have an early morning every morning! And what if I don’t want to go to sleep? What if I want to go to the concert? Maybe I wanted to go somewhere else for a while! I think I could use a drink after that lovely little experience! I haven’t had a chance to check out Tampa’s nightlife yet! That might be fun!” I argued with him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Okay, go ahead! Go to the concert! Maybe you can run into that piece of shit that hurt you a few minutes ago! That won’t be remotely awkward or anything! You want to go to a bar, let’s go! I will match you shot for shot. I bet you are under the table in less than five drinks! Then what? You need to go home, you need to rest, and you need to get ready for tomorrow. If you do anything else you are going to hate your life in the morning!” Colby stopped walking and lost his patience with me, waving toward the concert and out toward Tampa proper to make his points before daring me to challenge him.

“I hate my life every morning! That isn’t anything new!” I snarled at him, watching him draw back with a stunned and hurt look. “The parking lot is right there. There should be an SUV waiting for me. I can get home on my own. I am not a child and I do not need a babysitter!”

“Are you sure about that?” Colby growled, his leaning forward and pointing a finger at me. “You seemed to need one a few minutes ago!”

“Oh fuck off, Colby! Go back to making out with Joe or drinking beer or whatever it is you two do in your bromance and leave me alone! I handled that asshole all by myself no thanks to any of you! So, don’t you dare tell me I needed a babysitter!” I shouted at him and stormed away.

I stalked off toward the parking lot where Dave was waiting. I left Colby staring after me, hurt and confused by my actions and the way I’d lashed out verbally. We’d always had a good working relationship and he had thought we were friends. The idea that I’d been assaulted and that it might have made me emotionally unstable for the moment not crossing his mind. He jumped when Joe clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the beer garden. The need for a drink was a priority for the other three now that their surveillance of their coworker was at a close. His demeanor was sad and he and Joe shared a look but before his friend could ask how things went Colby furrowed his brow and leaned over to murmur a confused question.

“Um, why does she think we have a bromance?” Poor Colby struggled to process my last comment.

“What’s up?” Nick inquired as he saw Colby lean into Joe.

“Yeah, how did that go?” Drew teased, grinning at Colby.

“Um, she said she could find her way home on her own, she didn’t need a babysitter, and somethings I would rather not repeat.” Colby balked at telling them what she’d said.

“Oh? And what would those be?” Nick raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued.

“Yes, what exactly did she say? We weren’t close enough to hear!” Drew continued to pick on Colby.

“Um, she said I should go back to um… Well, let’s just go with she thinks Joe and I have a bromance and we should leave her alone. But um, I’m not sure what a bromance is. Do we have a bromance? When did that start?” Colby managed to stumble through the rest of what she’d said.

Drew and Nick started laughing while Joe sighed and shook his head, a hand going to his forehead as he rubbed his brow, “No, bruh, not happening. You are my best friend and godfather to my boys but um, no. I love you and all but not like that.”

Colby sighed and shrugged, a hand waving in the direction I’d gone, “No wonder she’s not taking us seriously or showing any interest in us. She thinks we are a gay couple.”

That made Nick and Drew cackle and Joe joined in. They knew this wasn’t remotely true though my lack of apparent interest outside of my performances did cause them to question if Colby might have it backward. Nick shrugged and chuckled.

“Nah, I’d bet she sees us as her older, overly protective brothers trying to care for their little sister and she resents it. She’s Taker’s kid after all. She thinks she can take care of herself. She’s probably just annoyed her evening got cut short. She will be fine tomorrow. Don’t take it personal!” Nick assured Colby I didn’t see him as gay.

“Great, so I’m the big brother now?! That’s worse than the friend zone!” Colby threw up his hands and went to order a beer.

The others followed with shrugs and chortles, smirking as they walked to the counter to order. They had no way to know what I was thinking since none of them knew me well enough to predict my mindset. In truth I was muddling through my attack and all of its aspects. Part of me realized I could have killed the guy, a thought that was followed by the feeling he would have deserved it. Part of me was rattled as I came to terms with nearly being subjected to the worst trauma a woman could go through. The part that made that worse was knowing he could have left me, and no one would have known or found me until someone came down the path to get something from the maintenance area or I’d managed to stagger into public and gotten help. I climbed into the SUV and Dave glanced at me in the rearview mirror. One peek told him my night had gone badly and he left me alone to sort out my thoughts. He checked on me periodically throughout the drive back and wasn’t concerned until he looked back and didn’t see me at all. At the next light he twisted in his seat to find I’d laid down across the bench and was crying quietly. He let me cry until we pulled in to the hotel and he parked under the portico. He turned and reached back to pat my leg, trying to comfort me.

“They mean well, honey, even if they don’t handle things properly. They are brutes with hearts of gold. Don’t be too hard on them tomorrow, okay?” He tried to assure me the guys were just looking out for me.

“Thanks, Dave.” My wan smile as I slid from the car and murmured words broke his heart.

I appreciated his attempt to make me feel better and protect the guys from my wrath. He had no way of knowing they weren’t the ones that had ruined my night. I didn’t share and he didn’t ask, his eyes tracking me until I disappeared into the lobby. I managed to get back to my room safely and prepare for bed. I called Shawn and I could hear the concern in his voice when he realized I was hours ahead of schedule for this call. He questioned if I was alright and in a shaking voice broken by sobs I told him what had happened. He told me to go to bed and I rung off, crawling between the sheets. Shawn called Hunter while I closed my eyes and dozed off, my body drained after the adrenaline rush had worn off and the emotional toll of what I’d been through came due. I slept poorly, tossing and turning as my mind assailed itself with nightmares I hadn’t experienced in weeks. My alarm sounded and I was never so grateful to climb from my bed. I felt like death warmed over and I suspected I was in for a long day. In the bathroom, I showered, brushed out my hair as I blew it dry, and dressed. I spent a few minutes doing my makeup, using what skills I had to cover up my lack of sleep. I couldn’t cover up the bruises that now marred my arms and the dark stains taunted me, reminding me that some lowlife had nearly killed me. I put my bag together and double-checked the contents before I left, aware that I couldn’t retrieve anything I’d forgotten. Shawn joined me for breakfast and he could tell I’d been up all night. He understood why I hadn’t slept, the events of the night before triggering memories of past traumas. He reached out and picked up my wrist, straightening my arm to turn it and examine the bruises, repeating the study on the other side. He scowled and shook his head, angry that I’d been hurt. He sat quietly as we ate and I felt like everyone was staring at me, an invisible neon sign announcing the assault to people passing by. We finished and stacked our dishes to make them easier to clear away. The walk to the SUV was silent, each of us lost in thought as we strolled together to the door.

Dave gave us a cheerful greeting and a cheeky smile as he opened the door. He was pleased to see I was awake and keeping with my normal routine He drove us to the gym and Shawn quizzed me during the ride on Kacy and Liv as well as the rest of the Riott Squad. I answered every question and he grinned, knowing I’d been doing my homework on my opponents. The vehicle pulled up in front of the gym and Shawn sent me inside and asked Dave to take him somewhere to get coffee. I slid out and reminded them it was a normal day and ballet was next on my schedule. I received affirmative answers and I went inside while they went for coffee, a frank discussion about the night before ensuing during the drive. Inside I put my bag away, pulled off my running pants and t-shirt, and changed shoes. The clothes and flipflops were shoved in the locker with everything else and I shut the door. The guys were boarding their flight to the city they would be working in while I put myself through my weight training. Kacy joined me about forty-five minutes into the workout and she was apologetic about the night before. She exclaimed over the bruises that marred my flesh and promised she would handle things. I nodded and finished my reps before heading to the ring. I made myself go through all of my basic exercises to ground and center my mind and give my thoughts the focus I needed to get through the day. Shawn returned and watched my exercises, recognizing the pattern as one I tended to get into when I felt my life was spiraling out of control. He spent the morning working with me one on one, something we hadn’t done since I’d arrived in Florida. He worked me harder than anyone else had, using his unique knowledge of my personality and style to get the best out of me. By the time I was released for ballet I felt grungy but content, the sweat dripping from my skin as he wore me out in preparation for Monday.

I showered, changed, and made both of my afternoon classes on time. The classes were grueling as usual, feeling twice as hard in my fatigued state, but I persisted until they were complete. I was proud of myself for being faithful to my commitments and not curling up to cry away the worst day I’d had in a while. Hunter was waiting when I arrived at the hotel and he sat patiently while I cleaned up and dressed for dinner. We enjoyed a quiet evening out at a nice Asian Fusion place he wanted to try and a movie afterward. He chose the latest action flick, a ridiculous storyline with lots of corny jokes, big explosions, and the guy getting the girl at the end to distract us from the night before. We got ice cream on the way back and ate it in the car. Hunter went out of his way to remind me I was still his little girl and having him felt close felt wonderful. I was safe, the world with its puny threats couldn’t touch me now that I had my dad at my side. I slept well that night, my body making up for the sleep I’d lost the night before. I woke up the next day in a better frame of mind and spent the day training with Hunter and Kacy in preparation for my debut on Monday.


	7. Flight of Fancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cailin and the guys board the plane for their next brand show. The flight goes a little sideways thanks to some bad weather. Take a bad bounce and see what happens!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of a two part trip, I will get the second half up in the next day or so.

Chapter 7  
Sunday dawned sunny and muggy, the heat combined with the humidity like a warm, wet blanket straight from the dryer. I heard the air conditioning turn on repeatedly as I showered, dressed, and prepared for my day. I would pack after my gear fitting was over and the team from the company building my gear left. I laid out everything I would need and left it on my bed while I headed to the main floor. I had breakfast with Hunter and he chatted about safe topics while gauging my mental state. He would have been surprised to know my room was neat and orderly much like my mind. After breakfast I returned to my room and carried my dirty clothes to the laundry room and spent part of my morning doing wash and watching film. Hunter came up to the laundry room and sent me back to my room when the team arrived for the fitting and I gave him a hug on my way out. I let myself in to the suite and saw a handful of people waiting on me. It didn’t take long for me to strip and try on the pieces they had brought. The basic set of gear fit nicely and adjustments were not necessary, a small blessing that made all parties present happy. A knock at the door heralded Hunter’s arrival and he took my laundry to the back while the team poked and prodded my outfit but eventually declared themselves satisfied. I was informed this gear was cut using the same pattern as my main gear and they expected to have a similar result. They assured me it would be ready in two weeks and I grinned, looking forward to putting on my initial gear and earning my name. They made a few last notes about how the corset sat on the body suit and the shorts sat over the skin toned leotard, what I looked like with it fully cinched, and where they expected boning and embellishments to be placed. 

With notes taken, diagrams drawn, and small adjustments made to the design the crew declared their job complete and began to pack up. They reminded me that I needed to be considering the embellishments I would like on my outfit and coat as they put away their paper, pencils, and sewing notions. I nodded and sighed, the need to make this decision weighing on me. I had been considering the additional colors I could put with the black base of my corset and shorts and settled on two colors – white and purple. Both were common enough and if I picked the right shade of purple it would glow under the blacklights in a manner similar to the white. I had considered red but it wouldn’t show up the same and I wanted the pop of color during my entrance to counter the darkness. It was a debate I was still struggling with and I planned to ask Hunter about it over lunch. I removed the gear so they could do a few small finishing touches and pulled on my clothes. They packed the pieces in the box they’d arrived in and promised to have it to me the next night and I nodded again. Once the room was empty I went in to my bedroom where Hunter lay sprawled across the second bed watching a baseball game and I laughed.

“Hey, it is nice and neat in here aside from that pile of clothes. Are you feeling okay?” He asked, glancing at me between pitches.

“Yup. I’m fine. Once the initial rage wore off and the adrenaline ran its course I realized I was okay. I took care of myself just like you and Shawn taught me to!” I grinned at him and pulled out my trunk and duffle bag from the closet.

“If you are sure. I have the name of a good therapist in the area if you need someone to talk to.” He offered to get me back in to therapy.

“Shawn didn’t tell you?” I blinked at him, my hands pausing midway through folding a shirt.

“Tell me what?” He stopped watching the game and gave me his full attention.

“Um, I’ve picked up a couple of sessions with the local survivors group that meets on Saturdays.” I confessed and went back to folding clothes.

“Oh. Um, okay, as long as you are getting what you need to be healthy, honey.” He was concerned about my well-being.

“I’m fine. Once it was all over I realized I was pissed more than anything. It also reaffirmed why I don’t date.” I sighed and shrugged, putting the folded clothing in to my duffle. 

“You know, one of these days…” He teased me and ducked when I threw a pillow at him.

“Ugh! I doubt I could ever date in my age range again. After listening to those guys the other night, I think I’m too ‘old’ for them.” I rolled my eyes and resumed folding my clothes for the trip.

“You have come to appreciate older men. That is okay. I think that may be what you need. Every time you have tried to date someone your age they have been horrible human beings.” Hunter seemed to understand why I wanted to avoid males my age.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe it is just men in general.” I shrugged and flipped through what I had put in my bag.

“It isn’t all men hon, but there are some really rotten ones out there and you have found a couple of them. I’m sorry. Please don’t give up just because you have had some bad luck.” He tried to cajole me in to considering dating.

“If I could find a man that would treat me like you have treated Stephanie all these years I would happily settle down and get married but let’s face it, after you they broke the mold.” I fluffed his ego with a little flattery and he laughed.

“They didn’t break it but they made fewer models to be sure.” He partially agreed with me and I smiled, accepting his response.

“Fair enough. Good grief, why do I pack so much stuff?” I scowled at my duffle bag.

“Because you like to be prepared for everything. Now, hurry up, we have a lunch date in a little while.” He teased and went back to his game. 

I stuck my tongue out at him and went through what I had chosen. It all seemed appropriate and necessary for the next day and a half so I left it alone. Shrugging I resumed my packing, making a couple of trips to the bathroom for my toiletries and hair care necessities. He watched with half an eye, most of his attention taken up by the game. Somehow I managed to put all of my belongings in the two bags and still had room for my gear plus the casual outfit I’d been wearing when accompanying Dolph and Drew to the ring. He never ceased to be amazed at what I took with me when we went on these trips but he also knew that I often utilized most or all of the items I brought along. It didn’t take long to put everything in its place and secure it and I pulled the trunk behind me while carrying the duffle toward the door. I returned to the bedroom and picked up the clothes I had left on the bed, my outfit for lunch going with me to the bathroom. I returned a few minutes later in a black skirt and baby pink blouse, hair and makeup done. I put the clothes I had worn that morning in my laundry bin and grabbed my shoes from the closet. I carried the shoes to the front room and took a minute to find my wallet and room key. Hunter stood up and followed me to the front room, chuckling as I double checked everything once more. I stepped in to my shoes and grabbed my wallet and phone.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yeah, I think so.” I sighed, feeling a little nervous about the rest of my day.

“You are going to be fine. It is just another day at the office.” He reminded me.

“Thanks Daddy.” I smiled and nodded.

We strolled through the halls to the elevator and he discussed things other than work. My favorite baseball team was performing well, football training camps were open, and he wanted to go camping at some point in the near future. I laughed at the last one, the randomness of the announcement he planned to take my sisters in to the woods with a tent and sleeping bags and lots of bug spray catching me off guard. I teased he wouldn’t survive the first twenty-four hours because no one would be there to cook for him and he probably couldn’t start a fire. That led to a debate about his abilities to survive in a post-apocalyptic world. It was heated and we bantered cheerfully all the way to the restaurant. We were chuckling and teasing when we arrived at the table and the guys noticed but didn’t say anything. We ordered drinks then food, chatting between visits from the waitress. We bantered about sports and movies, enjoying our last bit of relaxation before the hectic schedule of our live event. I was ebullient, a barely contained energy humming along my skin that the guys recognized as anticipation and excitement. I was sitting in my chair and behaving myself but they could tell it was difficult for me to maintain the professional demeanor I tried to project. After a month out of the ring I was getting to fight and I could barely contain my joy. I wanted it to be Monday night and the start of the show! I enjoyed being Drew’s sidekick but it wasn’t enough of an outlet. The last week I’d been driven to a surly, short temper and reckless behavior in practice to release the energies I’d pent up due to lack of combat. I’d gotten so unruly Hunter had threatened to ground me until SummerSlam. I had laughed but reined it in, understanding why he’d said it. He was concerned my first event on the main roster would be my last. He worried I would do something spectacularly reckless to prove from the outset I was the best performer on the pro circuit at the moment. I caught his eye across the table and we shared a look, each aware of what he was thinking and why he held those fears. I smiled, a silent promise to be cautious, safe, and responsible in the ring but the impish quirk to my lips told him I had every intention of walking away from the fight victorious. 

After lunch we returned to the hotel so the guys could pack. I made the quick trip to my room for my bags and came back to sit with Hunter, sharing a drink and a chat while we waited. The guys did not take long to pack and they met Hunter and I in the lobby, their bags clacking over the floor as they pulled them to a stop in front of the couches where we sat talking softly. We stood up and followed the men from the hotel. Hunter walked slightly behind us and observed my interactions with my team as we walked to the van that would take us to the airport. We chatted amicably and seemed comfortable with each other while we waited to put our bags in the rear of the van. The driver took our bags as we handed them off and placed them in the rack that took up the rear of the van and we wandered around to the side and climbed in. I settled in to a seat in the middle expecting the men to ignore me as they had in prior weeks but they engaged with me, teasing and joking to draw me in to their conversation. I recognized the effort they were making to include me and I rewarded them by returning the banter. I added to the discussion where I could, playfully tempering my words to keep things light and retain the comfort they seemed to feel. The ride was filled with good-natured ribbing and we were in high spirits as the van navigated the traffic around the terminal. We stopped in front of a set of doors to one end of the airport and climbed out. We gathered our luggage and entered the terminal, striding to the counter to check our bags. Normally we would go straight to the hanger but a bomb threat on a flight the day before had everyone on high alert. It didn’t take long for us to turn over our bags and walk through the halls to the exit to the tarmac. The six of us chatted and joked as we strode to our gate, stopping to sign autographs and take pictures with a few fans on the way. It was hot and muggy as we walked across the tarmac to the plane and climbed the steps in to the cooled cabin. 

The energy of the group palpably changed as we boarded the plane and settled in to our seats. One by one each of us got in to character and left our everyday personalities behind and it visibly affected our interactions. This plane was arranged differently from other flights, the wider body designed less like a traditional plane and more like a flying boardroom and living room. We had couches and chairs to sit on as well as space for the writers that were flying with us to sit down at a table and work. Drew and Dolph insisted that I sit with them and we discussed the next evening in low tones. I was still walking out with Drew and Dolph for the tag match they had against Seth and Roman who would be accompanied by Dean and we talked about the dynamics of the fight. Dean hadn’t played much of a role in their last fight and I suspected he would be more impactful the next evening. They agreed and we strategized for a few minutes, trying to come up with plans for how to neutralize the unpredictable portion of the opposing trio. With our concerns about Dean as nullified as we could make them they were curious about my match against Liv but I kept them focused on their fight and how we could handle the breakup of Dolph and Drew. The dissolution was going to be done in the ring for everyone to see, the outcome of the fight notwithstanding, but we struggled with a definitive ending for their relationship. We discussed using Dolph’s closer, the Zig Zag but it lacked the dramatic flair the situation deserved. They began to discuss various scenarios that mostly involved script but they felt anticlimactic. Chuckling I pointed out there was the old standby and Drew ordered me to hush. I refused to be cowed and persisted in mentioning the fan loved, wrestler abhorred steel chair and they both glared at me. I shrugged and let them continue to hash out their ideas, a soft chuckle from Hunter causing me to glance in his direction. From his expression I could tell he found my suggestion amusing, a nod assuring me the suggestion was the right one. I grinned and reveled slightly in my dad’s approval. A movement spotted from the corner of my eye drew my attention to Joe and I realized he’d been eavesdropping. I raised an eyebrow, questioning his choice of activities when he and Colby should have been focusing on their match and he grinned at me. Before I could inquire as to his train of thought Drew touched my knee and I turned my attention to our discussion. I tried to assist them in puzzling out the ending of their fight and their onscreen friendship. After another half hour of discussion, we gave up in frustration and decided to let Dolph handle it as he saw fit. He sat back and sighed but when he met my gaze a minute later he grinned, and I suspected the chair would come in to play. 

Their attention turned to my fight with the pink haired Liv Morgan and Drew asked me how I planned to handle her and the distraction of the other members of the Riott Squad. I admitted the numbers game concerned me but pointed out Liv wasn’t an overly accomplished fighter and on her own I felt I could beat her. They accepted that answer and we all knew I wouldn’t grasp the full extent of what I would face until I was ringside. I fully expected the whole Riott Squad to be present and for Ruby and Sarah to be problematic which was more than most seemed to anticipate. I knew all of Livvy’s moves and how to counter her sisters which meant I could have fun with the match and toy with them as long as I stayed within the rules. I told the guys I was planning to play nice with Liv until Ruby and Sarah interfered, something I admitted I anticipated, and would adjust my plans accordingly. Hunter knew and my partners suspected I could and would try to handle the Riott Squad on my own. They worried I would be injured if I tried, the numbers game not in my favor should I get daring. I was more concerned about hurting my opponents during the course of the match. My unconventional style was a threat to their wellbeing. The guys pinned on fake smiles and assured me if I could pull off stunts similar to my mischief in our practices I would beat all three women easily. I disliked their patronizing attitudes and closed down the discussion. I decided I wanted some water and excused myself. I unbuckled and stood up, walking to the galley to ask for a bottle of water as an excuse to stretch my legs. I passed Joe and Colby on my way and Joe’s eyes met mine for a second. He unbuckled, stood up, and followed me in to the galley, waiting while the flight attendant handed me a bottle of water.

“Can I help you Mr. Reigns?” The lady asked in a politely cheerful tone, her eyes wrinkling at the corners as she smiled at him.

“No, thank you, Clara. I wanted a minute of Ms. O’Reilly’s time, that’s all.” He smiled at the older brunette then turned to me. “Cailin?”

“Yes, Joe?” I replied casually, holding the bottle as I waited for him to decide how to play things.

“How is your flight going?” He opted for small talk, noting I had yet to open the beverage in my hands.

“If you have a question ask, otherwise I’m going back to my seat. I don’t like people who beat around the bush, it makes them seem disingenuous.” I refused to take the bait, my disinterest visible on my face and he paused, perplexed.

“Fine, I uh, I guess I will skip the niceties. What is your plan for the fight tomorrow?” After a minute of pondering he broached the topic of interest.

“Which one, yours or the fight with Liv? Scared I’m going to hurt your girlfriend?” I teased him and he drew back, astonished at the playful harassment.

“The one between the six of us. I’m not interested in the beating you are going to give Liv. Frankly if that fight lasts five minutes I will be shocked. Oh, and she’s not my girlfriend. I only talk to her at work, otherwise I barely know her. What I do know is that Liv, Ruby, and Sarah will not go easy on you. They don’t like upstart talent and will not appreciate you stepping in to the limelight.” He glared at me, irritated by my insinuations, and he attempted to intimidate me in to talking about our plan for the following evening. 

“I think I can handle the Riott Squad and I know you will be surprised by the outcome. As for our match, well darling, I guess you will have to get in the ring and see what happens. I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun!” I shook my head and giggled, refusing to tell him anything.

I started back toward the cabin and my seat, planning to look at film of past SHIELD fights to prepare for Dean. His hand hit the wall in front of me and I paused, my path blocked as he tried to detain me. I ran my gaze up the limb he used as a barrier to his face and studied his mien. I turned toward him as my vision traveled his arm and his displeasure was writ large on his features. I suspected the motivation for his inquiry and why he didn’t appreciate my lack of forthcoming but I decided to test the theory for my own amusement. He glowered down at me as I stepped in to his personal space, his useless attempt to cow me in to submission serving to goad my mischievous intent. I stopped a breath away from him and his eyes tracked the movement of my hand as I raised it to his shoulder. I pressed my palm flat against his chest and let glide over his torso toward his waist, deliberately caressing landmarks on my way south. The soft hiss of a breath sucked in told him I had his full attention as I spoke, my eyes never leaving his.

“What’s the matter, Roman, can’t handle a little teasing? Do you miss my kisses that much? Are you desperate to know if I find you irresistible? Or is it that I haunt your dreams?” I maintained our gaze as my fingers trailed over his belly to pause at his belt and I dared him to contradict the responses I felt to my touch.

His body told me the answers to my questions even if his brain refused to accept them, balked at the idea of wanting the woman in front of him. His taut muscles under my digits told me the affects my touch brought on, the pulse in his neck faster than when the conversation began confirming this. He opened his mouth to deny everything but the words remained stillborn on his tongue. The plane lurched sharply over a pocket of rough air and we were pitched in to the floor. His arms wound around my smaller frame as we fell, pulling me close as he tried to protect me from the impact of the floor as it rose up to greet us. My first thought was of gratitude for having not opened the bottle of water, followed closely by the acknowledgement of how badly the bump was going to hurt. The bottle bounced from my hand as we landed on the carpeted decking and I felt his arms tighten around my hips and shoulders, cushioning them as we came down hard and slid in to the wall behind us. He let go of me as we struck the wall and the next bit of turbulence separated us. His body was tossed over mine by the subsequent bounce and I grunted as his full weight collapsed on top of my smaller frame. My hands went to his chest, pushing him away to create breathing room. He put his hands on the floor to either side of my shoulders, leveraging himself in to a plank position, and he hovered over me.

“I am so sorry! That was… I didn’t mean to land on you!” He apologized, his horrified mien making me giggle and shake my head.

“Somehow I doubt you paid the pilot to bounce us around like this, darling. Now, would you mind getting up so we can go back to our seats? I’d like to be buckled in before…” I started to ask him to move and he did but not in the way I’d intended, a fresh pocket of dirty air flinging us around the galley like rag dolls for a third time.

His weight disappeared, a nasty jostle sending him across the galley to slam in to the bulkhead. I bounced in to the wall of the galley entrance and felt my back meet the corner. I whimpered as I pushed myself in to a seated position and scooted around the wall to grab the edges of cabinets in attempt to remain where I sat. I surveyed the floor for Joe and the flight attendant, Clara. I found her buckled in to her seat, trying not to giggle as she watched us bounce around the floor like jacks. I gave her a quick smile, agreeing we had to look hilarious. I made a mental note to never wear skirts on a flight in the future, grateful I hadn’t flashed anyone thanks to the pants I currently wore. I turned my attention to Joe and saw he was a few feet away, lying next to the wall. His eyes were closed and he was still, the hints of a lack of consciousness worrying me. I contemplated crawling to him but the sensation of the plane tipping toward my left gave me pause. The pilots adjusted our course away from the storm under us and I watched things tilt with the shifting course. I saw him start to slide uncontrolled across the galley floor and pushed off the cabinets using the angle of the plane to put myself on track to intercept him. I slid between his body and the bulkhead, doing my best to protect his head and neck as we slammed in to the wall, the two hundred and sixty five pounds of bulk driving the breath from my body. 

I held him tightly, gathering his upper torso in to my chest as we stopped forcefully and waited for the plane to level out. I lay behind him sucking in short, shallow breaths for a minute, trying to regain my equilibrium. It took a few minutes for the plane to resume flying straight and that allowed me to regain my breath and feeling in my arms. I released my death grip on his shirt and used my arms and legs to push him away from my body until I had enough room to sit up. I knelt beside him and my training kicked in. My hands searched his head and neck for injuries looking for any hint to explain his present state of consciousness. His head seemed find and I moved on to examine his chest, arms, belly, pelvis, and legs for damage and determine if he would be able to fight the next day. Everything was intact and he showed no signs of injury aside from some bruising and carpets burns. I rolled him on his side and ran a hand over his back checking for broken ribs and spinal damage but again, everything was intact. I scowled as I lowered him to the deck, frustrated by the lack of physical evidence to support his present state. I questioned if I had missed something or he was playing opossum as he had done before. I ran my fingers along his head again, searching for a bump or soft spot of any kind but I found nothing again. I squeaked as his hands wrapped around my wrists and he tugged them down toward his hips. I gasped as my upper body fell forward on to his chest and his movement confirmed my suspicions. His eyes were open and he was regarding me with curiosity as our gazes clashed and I nearly collapsed in relief.

“Are you alright?” I asked, searching for any hint of a stroke or trauma in his eyes and face.

“If you wanted to feel me up all you had to do was ask. I might have wanted a drink first.” He teased, realizing I’d been concerned, and he released my wrists, one hand settling on my middle back to keep me snugged against his chest.

“I wasn’t…” I began to protest but his free hand slid in to my hair and he tugged my head down to kiss me in to silence.

I wasn’t prepared for the sudden show of attraction and he took advantage of the momentary lapse in my guard. His tongue parted my lips and I gave in. My hands curled in to his shirt and eyes closed as I kissed him back, his fingers running through my hair as he tested my resolve. We lay there for a minute engaged in a sensual battle of wills but I quickly pushed away when I heard footsteps. I shifted in to a more professional demeanor beside him in attempt to make the scene appear innocent as Hunter poked his head around the wall and saw us on the floor. He crossed to where we were getting up and held out his hand, watching my expression shift as I took it and he pulled me to my feet. I met his stare and the wrinkle of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes told me I hadn’t been successful. My dad was well aware of what we had been doing and the chuckle coming from the man on the floor further confirmed it. I flushed and pulled away, dropping my gaze to the floor. I walked over to where my bottle of water rested against a cabinet and picked up it, quickly departing the galley for my seat without looking back. Hunter turned to Joe and offered him a hand up, the dark haired man accepting the assistance to rise and stand beside the shorter bald male who was his boss. They exchanged a look and Hunter put a hand on his chest as Joe started to leave. He talked to Joe in sotto voce for several minutes, keeping the discussion between them. They returned to their seats and settled in, buckling up for good measure. Hunter have me a nod as he sat down and I knew he’d had a conversation with the amorous man he’d found me in the floor with. I could guess what Hunter had said to Joe, the track diverging in to either encouragement or discouragement depending on how he perceived my reaction to the event.

I chose to ignore them both for the remainder of the flight for the sake of my emotional upheaval. I tried to sort out what had happened and why I felt as though a butterfly sanctuary resided in my belly. I’d been kissed since my assault, a number of times if I was honest, and none of them had made me feel this way. I was still lost in thought when the plane touched down, my mind so busy I hadn’t seen a second of the videos I’d been watching. I walked passed Hunter and Joe as though they were invisible on my way to the exit once we were allowed to debark the plane, a need to put some distance between us driving me from the cabin. Dolph and Drew found my sudden disinterest in Hunter and Joe amusing while Colby noticed and blinked, befuddled by the inexplicable change. I had come out of my shell in the last week, openly bantering with the guys about impersonal topics and taking their teasing well. They had seen hints that our conversations showed promise of becoming more intimate as time wore on. Now there was a noticeable chill in the air as I treated Joe in a manner contrary to both of the personalities I wore and it screamed something happened in the galley to unsettle my emotions. The fact I had stepped back in to my withdrawn, quiet façade belied any attempt I made at pretending I was fine, making them question what Joe had done to upset me. I grabbed the handles of my trunk and the duffle resting on top of it, pulling the stack from the row of baggage, and kept going. I made for the waiting van that was ready to take us to the hotel for our now routine dinner and evening production meeting. I handed off my luggage to the driver and climbed in to the van. I was seated when Seth plopped down next to me and I had fished my book from my bag. I had finished Sun Tzu and moved on to Les Miserables, the thick novel giving me a barrier between myself and the rest of the world. I studiously ignored everyone as the climbed in to the van, reading as an excuse to continue avoiding conversation. I listened as I read, the talking and joking going on around me allowing me to pick up information while appearing to be engrossed in the novel. The hotel was approaching, and I had turned the third page since we had departed the airport when a voice in my ear made me smother a startled squeak with my hand. 

“You know, if you are this unhappy with him you should say something.” Colby murmured, leaning in to my shoulder as he read along with me.

“I would but I’m not unhappy with him. I’m mad at myself.” I replied quietly, peeking at him from the corner of my eye, irritated I’d fallen for Joe’s opossum act twice now.

“Then why are you ignoring him? What’s the point of giving Hunter the cold shoulder?” The confusion Colby felt only deepened and I heard one of the subjects of discussion chuckle from the other side of me.

“That is none of your business. Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to read.” I ended the conversation in a cool tone and Colby blinked, startled as I turned my attention back to my book and resumed my ignoring of everyone.

Hunter gave Colby a smirk over my head, aware that this was a defensive mechanism for me. I pretended not to notice but Colby heard Hunter grunt a minute later. The two men exchanged a look and Colby shrugged, not understanding but accepting that as the fairer sex I bore no obligation to make sense and thus far had offered no explanations for my reticent behaviors. The hotel loomed as the driver navigated traffic and turned in to the parking lot, pulling to a stop in front of the doors. I stood up and shoved my book in my bag, heading for the door. I stepped cautiously from the van and walked to the rear to collect my stack of luggage, dragging it behind me as I strode in to the lobby. I took my keycard from Stephanie as I strode passed without a word, barely slowing as I continued to the elevators and the glance we traded unnerved her. She turned to Hunter as I disappeared in the direction of the elevators and he saw the questions in her eyes. He shook his head and followed his daughter upstairs, a hint they would discuss it later. The guys checked in while we went to our rooms, a second van of arrivals creating a delay as the staff tried to check in the new guests with haste. It was a quiet ride up to the sixth floor and I strode down the hall to my room. I was not surprised to find I was roomed beside my parents, Hunter’s preferred arrangement when he could get it. I heard him behind me as I stomped up the hall and he touched my arm as I swiped my key, eyebrow raised as he held the door for me. I met his gaze and he saw my brow furrow, the lip pulled between my teeth, and the uncertainty in my eyes as I stepped in to the room. He allowed the door to close behind us and pulled me in to a hug and held me, waiting for a sign that I’d calmed down. I clung to him for a minute, drawing off his quiet strength as he held me. I sighed and pulled away with emotions that were no less jumbled than before. He sat down on the couch while I pulled the stack of luggage in to the bedroom. I left the door open while I unpacked so we could talk and began to take my clothes out of the duffle bag. Silence reigned for a few minutes and I had the last handful of clothes in my arms when I heard him speak.

“I warned you he was interested.” He reminded me matter-of-factly.

“I know. I just didn’t expect…” My voice trailed off as I sighed, my footsteps padding in to the front room.

“Do I need to break his nose?” Hunter playfully offered to defend my besmirched honor and I smiled.

“No, Daddy, you don’t need to hurt him for me, I can do that well enough on my own.” I chuckled as I leaned against the end of the kitchenette. “He used a trick to take advantage of the situation and I wasn’t prepared for it. My guard was down and… And I enjoyed it.” Confession was good for the soul and I felt oddly relieved to admit I’d enjoyed kissing Joe.

“Okay, so you enjoyed the kiss? Then why the Elsa routine? I probably already know the answer but what’s the issue here?” The defensive routine was once he’d seen me throw up a dozen times in the last four years in attempt to protect myself from someone getting too close and I gave all the signs of running away again.

“You and I both know what happened the last time I trusted someone in the industry that wasn’t you or Shawn. It was also the last time I trusted anyone male aside from the two of you.” I reminded him quietly, my arms wrapping around my belly in a protective gesture as my stare pierced the floor and everything under it for a mile.

He sighed, quiet for a moment as he mulled over my statement. “I do. I also know that he isn’t your ex. Not even close. In fact I would go so far as to say he’s the exact opposite of your ex. Joe is a good man who will treat you in the manner you deserve. He will protect you and should it get to that point he could love you. That is why I’ve said if you want a relationship with him I would support you.” He tried to calm my fears. 

I padded over to sit beside him, “Thank you, Daddy, but I don’t know if I’m there yet. I will keep it in mind though, you know, for the future. I… It will take time for me to get comfortable with the idea of a relationship. It… The last one didn’t go so well. And you know it isn’t him. I am sure he’s a good guy. It’s me and all of my hang-ups. I might get there one of these days, or not. Who knows? Maybe I’m too broken for love.”

He pulled me in to a hug as I thought out loud and held me close, letting the beating of his heart under my ear sooth my troubled mind. “I know baby and I’m not going push the issue. I do not believe that you are too broken to find love. Scared, cautious, hesitant sure and given what happened you should be. I think in time you will find the right man if you haven’t already but you have to let them in. Then again you have four men in your life and you have yet to begin trusting them. Perhaps start there?” He pushed me away enough to look at me and gave me some much needed truth. “Now, I’m going to warn you, Joe is only going to tolerate the teasing so long before he tries to kiss you again, especially if you persist with your in-ring antics. If you need space you have to talk to him about it, tell him he’s going too fast or not fast enough, whichever the case may be. You don’t have to tell him your whole life story or explain why you need the room, just let him know when he needs to back off. He doesn’t know you like Shawn and I do and hasn’t been with you through everything like we have. He’s going have times when he will blur the lines between Cailin and Morgan and it won’t be hard for him to do with Morgan’s outgoing personality. She tends to eclipse Cailin and you are going to have to make sure he knows exactly which aspect of you he’s dealing with. Can you do that?”

I nodded and curled in to his chest and mused on his words. None of the men and women I’d worked with in NXT or presently knew about my past and I preferred it stay that way as long as possible. Everyone changed how they behaved around me when they found out, their view of who I was altered somehow, and it hurt, the few friends I’d had disappearing when I needed them most. Now he was proposing I trust not only Joe but the other three men I worked with beyond the faith I gave them at work. I was aware that every time we stepped in to the ring for sparring or a performance they held my life in their hands and I theirs. It was a grave responsibility and one we took seriously. But they didn’t know me outside of that venue and thus they couldn’t and wouldn’t understand my reactions to events that seemed normal to anyone else. Thursday night had proven that. Hunter was right, I would have to explain myself and verbally request space as I needed it should I feel someone was encroaching on my boundaries. I sighed and nodded, conceding he was right. He gave my shoulders a squeeze and let me go. He questioned if I wanted to change before we left but I shook my head and he helped me from the couch. We transitioned to his room so he could unpack before we headed downstairs to dinner. While he hung up his clothes he played twenty questions as a means of focusing my mind on the fight with Liv and challenging my plan for dealing with the whole Riott Squad.

He finished unpacking and we talked for a few minutes before we had to leave for dinner. We rose and he offered me his arm, playing the role of gentleman for me. We strolled to the elevator talking comfortably, our relationship seemingly repaired to the observing men I worked with. I appeared calmer, more myself than when we had arrived and my comfort level with Hunter raised eyebrows and questions. Joe’s theory about me being the Undertaker’s daughter was in question along with a great many other things but for answers they knew they would have to ask Hunter or Shawn, my past a closed book from my perspective. They followed us downstairs, speculating on the nature of my relationship with our boss but no realistic answers presented themselves and the Undertaker aspect only served to drive their ideas further afield. We boarded one of the vans bound for the arena where we would have dinner and the meeting, a change from our usual routine. The hotel had booked a business conference in the ballrooms at the same time as our event. Drew sat down next to me and we talked softly about our match the following night and his expectations, his dark head bent close to my flaming locks as we chatted. We were both fully in character and I let Morgan’s sass fly as I reminded him I’d helped him win the last three matches and assured him should we win the following eve he would be able to thank me for the assist. He retorted with disdain that he could handle all three of the men we were facing on his own and Dolph and I were just there to fulfill a formality. I called him rude and ungrateful which earned me a ‘hrmph’ for my troubles and I laughed. Drew knew he was being ridiculous but he was in character and it was a rare thing for him to break it for any reason save an emergency.


	8. When the Squad Riotts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner Sunday night and the full day Monday. Cailin and the guys get themselves in to a world of trouble and leave not quite the same way they arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the day we began in chapter 7. It is a long chapter but I hope you will enjoy it.

Chapter 8  
Our drive and the conversations were short, the proximity of the hotel to the arena and the airport conveniently close. The vans pulled up and we climbed out, sticking together as a group until we reached Catering. I slipped away from the men, the crowd swallowing me up and giving me a much-needed break from the testosterone. It took a few minutes for them to realize I’d gone but when they did the guys searched the crowd for me. In a room full of staff and talent I’d disappeared, not an easy feat for a redhead, and they became anxious. I had planned to sit alone in a corner and eat then join the guys for the meeting but I found Natalya, a long-time acquaintance, in the crowd and she pulled me into her group. She introduced me to her friends Bayley, Nia, Ember, Ronda, and Dana, each of them smiling and greeting me in turn. We chatted as we went through the buffet line and picked our foods and drinks. Nattie led us to a table and we sat down, talking comfortably as the ladies tried to get to know their latest addition. We joked and they gossiped, filling me on all the goings-on as they knew them. I laughed and corrected them when I had information to share and scandalized them further with a few bits of news I passed along they hadn’t heard. They clamored to know how I’d learned about the things I’d shared but I refused to reveal my sources. I simply started being nice to the staff was a great way to learn about the rest of the talent and perhaps even management. The truth was between Hunter, the staff, and being a relatively unknown talent, the cast and their business was an open book to me. People talked to or in front of me with little concern for who I would tell, assuming I was no one of consequence. 

Dinner wound down around us and we sat back, content after enjoying a delicious meal. People began to mingle and wander from table to table to chat with friends and coworkers. Our discussion was interrupted several times by people stopping by to say hello and converse for a few minutes before moving on. Most of our guests ignored me, there for specific people, and I was fine with this, content to sit back and listen, gleaning information to pass on to Hunter later. We were in the middle of one such visit when the lovely ladies of the Riott Squad popped up opposite me across the table. Ruby’s distinct shade of deep rose-colored hair shaved off on one side of her head, Liv’s cotton candy pink pigtails reminding me of the bathroom at the ballet studio, and Sarah looking the most normal of them with her brown hair in dreadlocks made quite the picture as they stood behind the empty chair beside Nia. Sarah and Ruby looked me up and down before giving the rest of the table their attention, apparently deciding I was beneath them. I saw Liv glance at me a few times as I stared them down and tried not to laugh as she stepped closer to Ruby. I could see she was unsettled by the chilly stare I turned on her and I continued to do it just to watch her squirm. They finished their conversation and were about to walk away but Ruby decided she had some parting words for me.

“Listen, little girl, we don’t care who you think you are, who your daddy is, or how you got here. You are the new kid on the block and that means you get to learn the ropes just like everyone else. You will be going down tomorrow night, bet on it.” Ruby informed me coldly, her usual sneer on her lips as she spoke, arms crossed over her chest.

Sarah and Liv nodded, and they walked away arm in arm, laughing and joking as they were swallowed up by the swirling bodies moving about the room. I sat back sighing and shaking my head as I decided I was going to enjoy beating Liv the next evening and watching as Sarah and Ruby were helpless to stop me. My intentions might have shown in my facial expressions, the dark look I sent after the retreating heels making Nattie shiver. I knew in the back of my mind there was a chance this would start as a singles match and end up becoming a three-on-one handicapped match but I’d faced those odds before and been victorious. The ladies at the table turned to gape at me in surprise and finally, Natalya spoke, a bit confused by what had transpired.

“Um, Cailin, this is going to sound silly but what were they talking about? Why are they talking about your dad and how you made it to the main roster?” She had been an acquaintance most of my life, had seen me at wrestling events around the world, but she, like everyone else, had never made the connection between the McMahons and myself, assuming I belonged to someone on staff.

“I have no idea what she was talking about. I came up through the developmental leagues and NXT the same as they did. I got no special treatment, no push from Creative, and, as far as I know, I have no family in the business.” I lied convincingly and they sat back, their postures mimicking mine, relaxed but shaking their head.

“Those girls are nothing but trouble, always have been. I wish Management would get rid of them. I thought Alexa was a pain until they came along. It wasn’t so bad while Liv was on SmackDown but now that they are together again it has been horrible! They are worse than before!” Nia seemed bitter and annoyed about the Riott Squad and their chronic mischief-making and verbal abuse.

“They are a heel faction darling, that is their job. They are supposed to make the fans hate them, drive the faces crazy, and torment the staff. You were good at being a heel when you were tagging with Tamina and you did similar things. I’m sure I will grow to hate them in time but right now they are what stands between me and my next match.” I was a bit blasé about the Riott Squad which surprised everyone.

“Honey, if you can beat them good for you! They are tough opponents for the new talent one on one and they are downright abusive as a group. I would bet based on her comments they have no intention of letting you get over on them any time soon.” Nattie told me with a sad smile as she rested her head on her hand, her elbow pressed into the table.

“Oh, I’m sure they will try but I’m not without my skills and tricks. They will be surprised by how hard this rookie fights. Don’t worry, I won’t go down easily!” I offered them hope I could beat the Riott Squad singularly or as a trio. 

“I hope so, sis because they have been winning too much lately and that needs to end!” Ember replied in a disgruntled tone.

I smiled and opened my mouth to reply but a hand settled on my shoulder and I glanced up, startled. Baron Corbin was standing behind my right shoulder, his hand on my left. I twisted in my seat to give him my attention and avoid craning my neck, curious what the recently appointed General Manager wanted with me.

“Hi, Morgan, um, are you um, busy?” He asked in stammering politeness, giving me a hopeful look.

“No, not really. I just met my competition for tomorrow, lovely ladies I assure you, and we were discussing our upcoming matches. How can I help you?” I smiled charmingly and inquired to his needs in a professional tone.

“Could I um, would you um, would you take a walk with me? I was um, was hoping we could um, maybe we could um, could talk?” He offered me his hand; the bashful request echoed in his face made the ladies titter.

I glanced from him to the ladies and a couple of them motioned for me to go while they all smothered giggles with their hands. I decided to take their advice, not wanting to be rude and placed my hand in his as I scooted my chair back from the table. He closed his hand around mine and we strolled away from the table, his shaved head bent toward my flaming tresses as we talked. We ambled comfortably about the room, holding hands and talking, our conversation kept to simple topics. Random questions made the chatter light and playful as we tried to get to know each other. He was polite, gentle, and sweet when he was away from the camera and I found myself letting Morgan relax with him in a way that I as Cailin couldn’t do with my partners. He was getting the Morgan side of my personality at her best and he made me laugh, teased me, and challenged my intellect as we strolled around the room. Joe saw a flash of red hair and tracked it, realizing who I was with, and he nudged Colby. They watched Baron and I amble around the room, comfortable with each other, and Colby could see the open jealousy in Joe’s face as the man walking with me received different reactions from anything they had gotten out of me. Even at my calmest and most comfortable I wasn’t as relaxed with my partners as I appeared to be with Baron at that moment and the men I worked with were bothered by this.

Hunter saw them tracking my movements and followed their gazes, observing my behavior as I stood against a wall and laughed at something Baron said. He shook his head and he shared a chuckle with Shawn as they watched me act comfortable and happy. Hunter went back to his email, recognizing Morgan’s behavior patterns where my coworkers didn’t. He understood Baron was the last horse in the race for my affections but he silently applauded the young man for trying. He knew from Baron’s reputation he would treat me well if I chose to go that route but Hunter doubted the likelihood of that happening based on the event that had occurred on the plane. From where Hunter sat it appeared Joe had competition that was eager to force him to step up or bow out, Baron’s attention clearly focused on winning my affections. A growl from Joe and a nudge from Shawn got Hunter’s attention and he glanced up from the email he’d been reading to see Baron had bent his head and kissed me. Shawn and Hunter exchanged a knowing look, chuckling over how much attention I’d received recently and Joe’s reaction to this new challenge. Baron and I were out of the way and most of the room was ignorant of the kiss but the men I’d been training with knew exactly where I was, with whom, and what we’d been doing. Hunter watched the intrigue build within my romantic life and grinned, waiting to see it all play out. The growl from Joe quieted as Baron ended the kiss and Hunter choked back a laugh as I glanced down shyly as if uncertain how to behave.

“I’m sorry, was that too fast? I um, I should have um, I should have taken you to dinner first.” Baron apologized to me thinking he had overstepped himself.

“I, uh, no um, it’s okay. I um, I wasn’t expecting you to, um, I didn’t know you liked me like that. We um, we just met last week.” I flushed and peeked up at him through my lashes while picking at the hem of my shirt.

“I know and I um, I don’t normally move that quick but uh, you seem really nice and um, I know if I don’t express my interest now um, someone else will um they will snatch you up. That’s what happens with girls like you around here. The nice ones are always claimed fast. I figured I’d better take the chance while I had it.” He grinned and held out his hand as he explained himself.

“You might want to hold off on calling me nice until after my match. You might change your mind!” I teased him and he laughed.

“I doubt it! I’ve seen some of your NXT fights and you are brilliant in the ring! I am looking forward to the matches tomorrow night! You are so entertaining! I may even watch your singles match from ringside! I would love to work with you at some point, I bet it would be a great learning experience!” He was effusive, clearly taken with Morgan in and out of the ring.

We resumed our stroll, talking about training, wrestlers we idolized, and our goals in the industry. We discussed our plans for life after our career in the ring ended and we both wanted to work in other aspects of the business when we couldn’t wrestle anymore. We were interrupted a few times by people that needed or wanted his attention and I took a step back to observe how he worked with each person that stopped us. Most of the disruptions were regarding the show the following evening but some were administrative in nature and required a bit more attention. I stood quietly during one of these interruptions, listening to Baron converse with a staffer about the filming schedule when a hand closed around my arm and I was drug away from my potential beau. He didn’t notice right away, the din of the room covering my startled squeak as I was pulled in to the crowd. I looked up at the owner of the hand and found Joe glaring at people as he propelled us through the room and away from Baron. He hauled me through the crowd to where the rest of the men we worked with sat and drew out an empty chair. A hand on my shoulder forced me to sit down at the table and he scooted the seat into the table. I glared at him until he let me go then crossed my arms over my chest and pinned the others with a menacing look. No one would meet my eyes while he sat down.

“Um, Joe, what do you think you are doing?” Hunter took a decidedly fatherly tone as he watched his child forcibly seated at the table.

“She belongs here, with us, not with him. She’s not his and he’s got no right…” Joe snarled his explanation of his actions to his boss.

“Excuse me?” Colby said later his glass froze over the tenor of my voice was so cold, the baleful look I threw at Joe enough to make the others lean back to avoid being caught in the aftermath.

“You should have been here with us, not wherever you have been. We needed to discuss tomorrow! We have a match to finalize!” He tried to pretend he was not having a jealous meltdown.

“I am going to go now. I will not sit here and be treated like a child by a jealous brat who doesn’t know what he wants. If one of the adults at the table would like to speak to me I will be somewhere in the room otherwise I will see you all at breakfast.” I stood up and walked away, shaking with barely contained fury.

Joe started to go after me but Colby’s hand on his arm and glares from Shawn and Hunter discouraged that idea. Colby shook his head and quietly lit into his friend while the others found things to occupy their attention. While Colby explained to Joe why going after me was inadvisable and potentially detrimental to his health I scoured the room for Baron. I finally found him roaming the room searching for me and we hugged, relieved to have located the other. When we stepped back I apologized politely, blaming my sudden disappearance on a costuming issue and he seemed to believe me, relieved I had come back to him. I saw Stephanie stand up and Hunter joined her near the front, a clear sign the meeting would be starting shortly. We found chairs at an empty table and sat down, discussing costumes until Stephanie stepped to the podium and began talking. We made small comments throughout the meeting that made the other smother laughs, and we received warning looks from those around us. This didn’t deter us from making jokes to break the monotony of the first portion of the meeting as it was boring as production meetings were typically wont to be. The stagnant nature of the meeting broke when Stephanie began to read the fight card for the next night and Vince unexpectedly lost his mind after the first match was announced. My match opened the evening and everyone gasped in shock as Vince began to rant and rave, ordering the fight be canceled. Baron glanced at me and saw I’d gone pale, my eyes huge gray disks as I watched my step-grandfather embarrass us both with his tantrum.

“Wow, I have seen him angry but this is next level. What does he have against you?” Baron hissed in my ear, chuckling as I jumped, startled by his words.

“It’s a long story. Suffice it to say he likes me less than CM Punk and leave it at that.” I growled angrily, watching my career pull a Hindenburg before my eyes.

Hunter stood up and physically removed Vince from the room, their heads bent together, one shaved, one white, their argument held in low tones as they departed. Steph sighed and rubbed her forehead, waiting on them to leave then beginning the fight card over again, starting with my fight with Liv and continuing until she’d gotten through the main event. She reviewed the filming order after that and I tuned her out. Baron glanced my way often as I tried to will myself out of existence, the glum look on my face a hint of how upset I was. He put his arm around my shoulders and hugged me to his chest. He heard me sigh as I tried not to cry out my frustrations over yet another roadblock in my path to success, placed there by Vincent Kennedy McMahon. I considered finding Stephanie after the meeting and withdrawing from the match but I couldn’t do that. The hurt and disappointment and frustration that would cause Hunter reason enough for me to stay, the blow to my pride another. I’d fought long and hard for this slot, this role, and he felt I deserved the chance to prove myself even if no one else in the family did. Now it appeared my opportunity to grasp the brass ring was slipping away. Steph finished filming notes and I could not have told you what she’d said, my mind and gaze a million miles away. Baron rubbed my back, trying to offer some comfort in my moment of humiliation and I barely noticed. I was jerked back to reality by a group of hands touching my back and shoulders and three women appearing in my line of sight across the table from me. I twisted to find Nattie, Ember, Nia, Bayley, Ronda, and Dana standing behind me with sympathy and support on their faces. My smile was sad but I appreciated their backing as I turned to face the women across from me.

“I told you your daddy didn’t matter! It doesn’t matter how many punches they exchange, how loud they yell and scream, the fact is Hunter won’t convince Vince to let you fight! There’s no way for you to win tomorrow! Even if you do get to fight you still won’t win, we will see to that! See ya tomorrow, roadkill!” Ruby grinned smugly as she dropped a MOAB into my world and walked away with Sarah and Liv laughing beside her.

I closed my eyes, the bile rising in the back of my throat, and for a minute I considered throwing up but I didn’t want to be that kid, the one that vomited when the stress got to be too much. I took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to decide how to handle this. I hadn’t wanted this information to get out, was legally forbidden from mentioning it, but it was too late to do anything about it. Ruby had exposed my family connections and I had to salvage the situation. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the questions rang, how had she found out? Who had told her? What did she hope to gain from this?

“Cailin, why would she imply Hunter is your dad? You are too old to be his kid! I think all that hair dye has fried her brain!” I could have kissed Nattie right then, her question making Ruby seem illogical as she sat down beside me.

The other ladies sat down around the table and their expressions were similar, confusion and anger, and even Baron had a questioning mien as they all waited for an answer to this latest riddle. I sighed again and told the lie I’d been using for plausible deniability since my relationship with Hunter had first been challenged when I was thirteen.

“My family met Hunter when I was in elementary school through a mutual friend. We kept in touch, followed him through his career, and visited whenever he was in town. When he heard I was wrestling in high school he introduced me to Shawn Michaels and I’ve been training with Shawn ever since. I had just turned fifteen that summer and even though I went to college on a hockey scholarship I’ve not stopped training. My parents wanted me to keep my options open after college but this is all I’ve ever wanted to do. When I decided to go Pro Shawn called Hunter and he connected me with Two-Oh-Five Live.” This was mostly true except my parents had died before I’d met Hunter, Shawn started training me at thirteen, and I’d done two years on the Indie Circuit before Hunter had let me start Two-Oh-Five Live.

“Oh, wow! You are so lucky! Hunter is such a great guy outside the ring! He has made it to the peak of the business and he’s never forgotten where he came from. I have known him and Steph most of my life and I’ve always looked up to him. I’m glad he took you under his wing and helped you accomplish your dream!” Nattie buying my story thanks to her history with Hunter sold it to everyone else.

“Yeah but that doesn’t explain the massive tantrum Vince threw. I have never seen him go off like that! What’s his deal?” Ronda touched on the one thing my tale didn’t explain.

I sighed and sat back, scowling at the table for a minute before I addressed the question. “Vince and my parents had a falling out over how they chose to handle my career. He insisted they should get me a proper agent to handle all of my career moves rather than let me make all of my life choices. He thought I was too young and inexperienced to make educated decisions regarding things like contracts and medical care. He thought it would ruin my career.”

Again, a lie that was mostly truth. During dinner one evening not long after Shawn had confessed to Hunter about my Indie career Vince overheard us talking about an upcoming event. He made it crystal clear he thought I was too young, inexperienced, and stupid to properly book my matches, pick my health care, and negotiate my contracts. He was flabbergasted to learn Shawn had been given guardianship over me for all things related to wrestling. More shocking was that he and others, including CM Punk, had been teaching me the finer points of contract negotiations, finding a good doctor and athletic trainer, and booking my events over the prior two years. By the time I’d reached the developmental league I was well versed in how promoters tried to take advantage of their young contracted talent, doctors and trainers provided below adequate care, and fights could go horribly wrong.

“Oh, that is just wrong and so like Vince! He tried to talk Nia and I both out of wrestling and made me jump through a million hoops because of my family! He really doesn’t like women wrestling. Some of the older women have told me stories over the years about him and how he treated them that would curl your hair! He’s such a misguided misogynistic old man!” Nattie was neither impressed nor surprised by how Vince handled female talent and the others nodded.

Vince in the ring was a notorious heel, the worst bad guy of them all. Outside he was bipolar at best. You never knew who you would get when you knocked on his door. If you were male talent he could be your best friend or a pain in your ass. If you were a female you only got the heel until he felt you had proven your worth and even then you got stubborn, difficult, argumentative Vince until you won a belt. After winning a championship he figured you had paid your dues and claimed your spot on the roster and you might, if you were lucky, get tolerable Vince. The company as a whole was difficult to work for though some departments were better than others and even the road crews and talent had issues. I had witnessed firsthand all the troubles the company had been going through lately and understood better than most that if things didn’t change the struggles would shake the empire to pieces. If the company ended it wouldn’t affect the talent much with the number of companies vying for their time and attention greater than in past decades, and the road crew could find jobs within the industry easily enough, but the general staff would suffer. I’d mentioned to Hunter on multiple occasions that something had to change before it all folded like a house of cards. He acknowledged my insight, even said he was working on it, but always retreated to his stance that Vince owned the company and nothing would change until he was gone. The last time we had discussed it I’d quipped someone needed to buy Vince out or find a way to vote him off the board. Hunter had gotten a look on his face that seemed almost guilty and I wondered if he were considering such a thing. Now that conversation popped into my mind as I realized that if women were going to progress further in the business we needed an advocate and the company needed new leadership.

“Yeah, he’s difficult to work for. We are lucky we don’t have to work with him more than we do. Have you read the review of the company online? Not good at all.” Nia shuddered as she recalled the reviews she’d read.

“He’s difficult, headstrong, and determined, but also… mmmm, I could use a lot of negative adjectives but I stick to my favorite and the simplest – he’s an ass.” I grinned at them and the other women nodded.

“You do realize that ‘ass’ is the CEO of the company and signs your paycheck, right?” Baron reminded us we were trashing our boss.

“Oh, yes, honey, we know exactly who we are talking about but let’s face it, everyone knows how he is and what he is! We aren’t stating anything that hasn’t been said by someone before us!” Nattie laughed at him and I smiled at her response.

They didn’t know Vince like I did, my past having brought me in contact with him almost daily until I left for college. Just hearing about the experiences I’d had with Vince would have traumatized everyone at the table and remembering left me raw and vulnerable, even giving me nightmares at times. I wondered if dealing with the family and living in this world for so long had given me PTSD and my therapist had agreed with that assessment. She’d gone so far as to say my assault had served to compound the mental trauma I’d sustained from the years under Hunter’s roof. Now as we sat and talked about Vince and I realized the other women had similar experiences with and feelings for him I didn’t feel guilty about my opinion of him.

“True but he does deserve a little respect. He built this and we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.” Baron argued in favor of Vince and the Frankenstein he’d created.

“Honey, his father laid the foundation for all of this. All Vince has done is buyout and cobble together all the independent leagues that were failing. And he didn’t even do that all by himself. Shane helped with some of the buyouts. If he hadn’t done it someone else would have. Vince is insane, like clinically so. Between the years of short sleep and the constant drinking and his abusive childhood, he’s got some serious screws loose! Trust me, for as great as you think he is I could tell you a hundred stories to contradict that belief and I’m sure Nattie could do the same. We grew up around this world and while she has had more direct contact than I did we know a good deal about Vince, the company, and how things really are.” I contradicted him and explained why I knew better.

“Huh, I’m uh, I’m sorry. I uh, I guess I should look into it more, huh?” Baron backed down looking ashamed.

“There is nothing wrong with what we do. It’s the corporate aspect and how things are handled on that end that could use some improvement. Frankly, Vince is the reason it is so bad. He’s created a culture that is toxic and discourages employee productivity until the deadline is looming then it’s a mad dash to complete the project. There are massive communications failures across all departments, and no one is encouraged to be their best. Even Creative is lax because Vince will throw out the majority of their work. It’s a systemic infection from the top down.” Nattie stopped him, assuring him we weren’t the problem.

I nodded and sighed, agreeing silently. I kept my opinions to myself, not wanting to engender further ill will if I’d created any. I heard and felt the room change around us as the guys approached the table, their presence preceding them like a wave. The conversation ground to a halt as a hand touched my shoulder and I knew they’d sent Colby to talk to me. Dolph and Drew were fine with me being independent of the group and had opted out of this conflict, standing a few steps back from the table to show their indifference. Joe and I were at an impasse after his behavior earlier in the evening and I could see the anxiety it was causing him as I turned to look up at Colby. He stood behind me and I could feel the tension rolling off of him, recognizing they had sent the one person I seemed to like best to approach me.

“We are heading back to the hotel. Are you ready to go or will you catch up? We can wait if you want.” Colby leaned down and quietly asked if I were ready to depart.

“I think I am going to stay for a bit longer. Get some rest, tomorrow is going to be a long day. See you at breakfast.” I said goodnight to him and he nodded, straightening to leave.

The guys walked away but Joe looked back a few times, unhappy I’d chosen to stay. Once they were gone I breathed a sigh of relief. I enjoyed their company, their work ethic, their views on life, and even their disparate senses of humor but I felt I lived under a microscope around them, constantly judged and scrutinized. Now as the ladies watched them stride through the crowd to the doors I saw an appreciation on their faces I hadn’t seen before. As one the ladies and Baron regarded me with curiosity and I felt as though I were a goldfish in a bowl and they were waiting on me to do a trick. I saw looks exchanged, the murmurs started, and I wondered what they would ask me first, who would be brave enough to broach the topic of my partners.

“So, um, you um, you work with Seth, Roman, Dolph, and Drew. What’s that like?” Ember asked, her eyes never leaving Seth and Dolph as they disappeared into the throng.

“Difficult yet tantalizing. Exhausting yet exhilarating. We know our jobs, our skills, and our bodies. We work hard to improve every day and perform at the highest level possible. But there are personality clashes.” I gave them a glossed over version of my daily life.

“Like what?” Ember refused to let it go.

“Drew. He’s a highly intense, extremely focused, driven individual who strives to be the best because he’s had this slip through his fingers once and he doesn’t want to experience that loss a second time. The conflict comes in that he expects the rest of us to work at his intensity level all the time and it doesn’t happen.” I gave them an example.

“How so?” Nia tilted her head, curious.

“Roman and Seth are professionals. They are at the top of their game, in peak physical condition, and they have the company’s blessing to run their characters as they are, and they know this. They don’t see the point in pushing themselves the way Drew does when they can achieve what they need in a manner that suits them. The differences in styles between the three of them gives them further reason to stick to their training and let him do his. It leads to disagreements and some ‘mine is better than yours’ conversations from time to time.” I offered more insight into the men I worked with.

“But that doesn’t explain Dolph.” Ember pointed out.

“Dolph goes along with Drew because they are friends and partners but he tones down the workouts to meet his needs. He’s the most laid back of the four and he’s probably the most jovial which makes him the easiest to work with. Long and short of it is they are a volatile bunch of personalities and tempers and egos that work and live together yet somehow do not explode on a daily basis. Essentially I spend my days in the middle of four tornadoes that never stop.” I told them the truth, the emphasis and softening of my words regarding the different men I worked with adding color to my descriptions, my attention drifting a little as I sought the right words to convey my daily life.

“Yeah but all that muscle and gorgeous man flesh and those eyes!!!” I giggled as Ember espoused the positives of my coworkers.

“Trust me, darling, when you have to listen to four junkyard dogs growling and snarling and snapping at each other over detail scraps every day the looks lose their appeal. I swear they argue and nitpick and negotiate every last aspect of every single fight! There is a reason I avoid them whenever possible!” I laughed, waving away the benefits of the eye candy as I extrapolated on the challenge of living and working with four alpha males.

“You poor thing! That has got to make you insane! You don’t get any respect, do you?” Nattie instantly knew what I was living through and was sympathetic, patting my hand as she spoke.

I snorted as I turned on the chair to lean back against Baron’s chest, his body shifting to make me comfortable, one arm going around my waist, the other draping over the back of my chair. “Respect from those four is earned not given and they have made damned sure I understand this. To Drew and Roman I’m the rookie with no experience and no chops. Seth sees me as inspiration since our styles mirror and compliment each other. It helps that in spar he’s totally laid back so we can usually work together. Dolph isn’t sure what to make of me. Visually I appeal to his baser needs and he appreciates how hard I work but when we get in the ring he ends up frustrated because he can’t figure me out. Then again Seth is the only one that has gotten close to keeping up with me and that drives them all crazy. All in all it makes for a long work week but honestly I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

“You should come over to the Performance Center and work with those of us that train there. We have a great group and we are easy to get along with. If you are half as good as I think you are you would earn respect in no time!” Baron tried to convince me to move to Orlando and train with him.

“Thanks, honey, it sounds lovely but right now I need to be in Tampa. They are the team I am assigned to at the moment and I have to work with them, spend time with them, and learn how they operate in order to do the job I’ve been given. I know it won’t be forever and you might see me in Orlando sooner than you think. It all depends on my next story line if I get one. Beside it isn’t all bad. Any day I can make Roman stomp off to the locker rooms or sit on a weight bench and sulk is a day I know I’ve had fun!” I told him why I couldn’t join him on the eastern side of the state, not mentioning I appreciated the challenge of earning the respect of these particular peers and laughed as I pointed out there were aspects of my job I enjoyed.

“Oh, that sounds like fun yet somehow inappropriate all at the same time!” Ronda laughed at me and the others joined in as I grinned.

“You should see what I did to cause his first tantrum! He stormed off and didn’t talk to me for the rest of the week! It was great!” I chuckled and I saw eyes go wide before they nodded eagerly.

“How did you manage that? He usually seems so chill!” Ember inquired leaning forward in curiosity.

“Just by being myself. I’ve learned to tone it down around them during practice, apparently they are too delicate to handle all of my personality. Mind you I don’t give them much room for excuses or failure but I don’t go as hard on them as I could.” I confessed I could be a lot to handle especially when it came to my work but the joy in my face told them I loved my job and had fun doing it.

“So let’s see what you did to piss off ‘the guy’ so badly!” Nia encouraged me to share with a ‘gimme’ motion of her hand and the others nodded.

“Okay but let me caveat this by saying I’d worked out all of the angles and anticipated every action the guys could and would make before I moved an inch. This was roughly thirty minutes in to my first spar with Seth and Dolph on the Tuesday after my first ringside appearance with Drew.” I explained what I was about to show them.

I pulled out my phone and cued up the video Shawn had filmed of my stunt that had taken out all four men during our second week of practice. I handed it to Nattie and they leaned together to watch the video. I heard them gasp and grow excited as they saw my progression through each stage of the trick and landing, marveling that I’d returned to where I’d begun. I felt Baron strain to see the video over my head and when he relaxed having seen it all. Ronda made them rewind the video and watch it several times over, each time finding a new aspect to comment on. They were shocked, impressed, delighted, and a little intimidated.

“I don’t know how they can disrespect you after a stunt like that. You are more talented than they give you credit for. You are going to kill Liv in the ring tomorrow and she’s never going to see it coming. I bet those gymnastics skills help in bed too!” Baron murmured in my ear and I flushed, his obvious excitement as he got ahead of himself both flattering and worrisome.

“It has its benefits.” I agreed softly, trying not to think about the last person that had made a comment in the same vein.

Nattie held out my phone, respect on the faces of the women I shared the table with. I took the phone back and grinned at them.

“You should have seen him stomp off after that! You’d have thought I’d forgotten to invite him to my birthday party!” I quipped playfully as I closed the video.

They laughed and shook their heads, joking about how nice it must be to have the freedom to throw those kinds of tantrums and not be viewed as hysterical, overly emotional, or weak. I agreed that it was a rare thing for us to get away with emotional displays when we had issues, but the men could get away with murder and mum was the word. They asked me how I prepared for stunts like the ones I’d shown them and I confessed I’d been taking ballet and gymnastics since I was a small child which gave me an edge in some cases. They nodded and it was point out those skills would help against Liv in my match the next night. Baron didn’t say much as we talked, taking in our chatter as an outsider with no experience in our world. I felt him laugh at us a few times, something he heard amusing him, but I didn’t ask him about it. Eventually our conversation wound down, stalling on a series of yawns, and we agreed we would meet up for breakfast and talk more. I smiled, content in this notion, and pulled way from Baron to stand up with the rest. We began to walk toward the loading dock where the last transports waited for the stragglers of which we were a few. A dozen or more people ambled out with us and I smiled, seeing a few familiar faces as we strode toward the exit. Baron’s arm wound around my waist in a possessive manner and I allowed him to pull me in to his side as we walked. I leaned in to him with an arm around his back and a sleepy smile on my face. I felt like snuggling, a strong desire to be protected after the events of the day and he seemed willing to indulge my desires.

We found seats together in the large van and mumbled questions and comments to each other as we swayed gently with the motion of the vehicle. We were sleepy given the hour and the van ride wasn’t helping, making us drowsier as it lumbered toward the hotel. I snuggled in to Baron’s side and we rode in companionable silence the last few minutes, allowing the other to wonder what we were thinking. I was almost asleep when the van pulled in to the parking lot and stopped in front of the lobby doors. He looked down at my heavy lidded eyes and regretfully gave my shoulder a gentle shake. I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes, and yawned, the need for repose strong as I looked out the window and saw the front of the hotel. The doors opened and we stumbled out of the van, the ladies and Baron looking as drowsy as I felt and we mumbled comments about needing our beds. Leaning heavily on each other we staggered through the lobby, Baron in the middle of the gaggle of women, his long arms holding us up as we made our way to the elevators. We stood in a half circle punch drunk and giggling at everything and nothing while we waited on a car to take us to our floors. We separated as the elevator rose through the floors until Baron and I remained, our rooms on the same floor, and he walked me to my door. I paused outside my room, listening to the raised voices coming from the next suite and I drew my lip between my teeth to worry at it. I wondered what they were fighting over this time and if I was the cause. I heard Stephanie start yelling at Hunter and suspected I would have company shortly. Baron touched my arm and when I glanced up at him he raised an eyebrow. I shook my head, not wanting to explain what was going on. He shrugged and smiled, deigning to let me keep my secrets for the moment. He leaned down and brush his lips across mine as his way of saying goodnight before he walked way.

I swiped the card in my hand against the lock and pushed the door open, pausing to study the portal next to mine for a minute before I disappeared inside. I sent Hunter a text letting him know I’d returned and offered to let him crash in my room if need be. I received a reply telling me to go to bed and I willingly complied with the instructions as my body complained about the delay. I brushed my teeth and hair, found clothes to sleep in, and slid in to bed. My next conscious action was a groan as I reached for my phone to shut off my alarm. I could feel he consequences of going to sleep an hour later than normal as I drug myself from the bed to change in to my gym clothes. I pulled on my shoes, grabbed the bag I used for my dance shoes, and shoved my phone and keycard inside. I was not conscious enough to realize my slippers and pointe shoes were still in the bag and headed for the front of the suite with everything I thought I would need. I would have left but I paused in the doorway seeing someone in my front room. I stepped from my bedroom and saw the pullout bed was in use, the occupant snoring softly as they dreamt. At first I thought it was Hunter come to escape Stephanie’s tirade but as I drew closer I realized it was too small to be my dad and recognized another familiar face in repose on the bed. I left Shawn slumbering in the bed, suspecting Hunter had retreated to the bar with his best friend after the fight with his wife and they had shared a drink or five while they groused about women. Hunter had probably let Shawn in and he’d been sober enough to find the bed, make it, and fall in to it. I slipped from the room and headed to the main floor to get a quick workout in before my day began in earnest, content to let him sleep off whatever activities had befallen him the night before.

It turned out I wasn’t the only one with this idea and the small gym was not big enough to accommodate all of us, some sixteen people trying to utilize the same equipment in the limited space impossible. A few of the athletes saw me disappear in to the pool area and wondered why I wasn’t working out with everyone else but shrugged and went back to waiting for equipment to open up. Colby saw me duck in to the room housing the pool and decided to follow, curious how I planned to circumvent the congested gym. He was used to the workouts he and the other men put the group through daily and the idea that I might have other options hadn’t crossed his half-awake mind. I’d stuck my head around the door to the room enclosing the pool the day before long enough to get the layout of the room and see that the beautiful windows were thickly paned with wide metal sills at waist height. I knew I could get a full ballet workout in using the open floor and the windowsills to incorporate my barre routines and dance combinations to get a complete series of stretches and weight bearing exercises done in the same time it would take for the gym to clear out. I arranged the lounge chairs to mark the edges of my work space and sat down to change shoes, glancing in the bag for my ballet slippers. Now that I was awake I was grateful I’d forgotten to take my dance shoes out of the bag and pulled on the canvas slippers I normally danced in. I considered doing my pointe exercises instead but chose not to, reticent to ruin an expensive pair of pointe shoes on the concrete floor. I stood up and found my ballet playlist on my phone, letting the classical covers of pop songs fill the air as I sat on the floor and began to stretch. I jumped when Colby dropped down beside me and copied my movements to the best of his abilities. I glanced at him confused but when he followed my transition in to the next stretch I realized he’d been impatient to work out as well. I led him through a brutal work out and he struggled to keep up, his body not used to the demands of dance and not as flexible as mine was. I talked him through variations of the positions and modified the workout for him where I could. It was interesting to see where our strengths differed and how willing he was to push himself in a new way to get in a workout. As with everything else we did together I did not go easy on him, refusing to coddle him despite his lack of experience in this area. When we finished he flopped on the floor for a minute to catch his breath while I padded over to the chair my phone rested on and I found the piece of music I’d been working on for a few weeks. I struggled with one section of the choreography, nothing I’d tried tying the two halves of the song together. I began to move through it, the dance coming easily until I got to that portion and decided to try a grand jete and almost wiped out. A pair of hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me backward in to a chest, saving me from a nasty spill on the concrete floor. I twisted to see Colby smiling, relieved he’d kept me from being injured as he held me for a minute.

“Thank you!” I breathed and he nodded.

He let me go and I stood for a minute, brow furrowed, bottom lip between my teeth as I studied the floor and mentally walked through the piece. I realized the jete was the correct bit of choreograph but I needed a boost, a lift, and that was the second piece I hadn’t known I’d been missing. He was walking away and I trotted to catch up with him. I touched his arm and smiled when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Um, could you um, could you do me a favor?” I asked him hesitantly.

He stopped and gave me his attention, his pose relaxed as he waited for me to ask for help, something I rarely did.

“You can but I’m not sure how I can help you.” He shrugged, being honest with me.

“I um, I need a partner for this dance but only in certain places. Do you think you could help me work this out? I um, I’ve been stuck on this choreography for weeks and I think I’ve finally got it sorted out but I don’t have anyone else to ask. Please!” I blushed and stared at the floor as I twisted my fingers together.

“You want me to dance with you?” He seemed befuddled by the request as he took a step toward me. “You know I don’t dance like that, right?”

I sighed and nodded, receiving the refusal I’d expected. I pivoted gracefully on my toes and returned to my work space, scooping up my phone to start the song again. I knew I would need a couple of additional steps but with enough momentum I figured I could muscle through the grand jete and stick the landing the second time, aware I had enough strength to get the height and distance I wanted. I began to go through the steps, moving slowly through the piece as it built up to the crescendo and I paused at the edge of my allotted space. Colby saw me take two steps and gather myself for the jump, took one look at the amount of space remaining, and knew I couldn’t land in the abbreviated margin safely. He started toward me as I pushed off, my legs extended in a perfect forward split, arms held gracefully out to my sides, and he knew I would hit the chairs when I landed. He caught me around the waist and spun us away from the chairs at the last second, my toes brushing the metal frame as he saved me from certain injury. I gasped and twisted, struggling against him in anger and frustration. I didn’t recognize that while I might have stuck the landing the chairs would have collected me upon touching down and I probably would have twisted an ankle or worse. He let me go and I pirouetted, about to rail at him for ruining a perfect grand jete even as he started to explain why he had snatched me from mid-air but we never got the chance to fight. The door banged open and a handful of people strode in including Joe and Drew. I decided at that point I was done and quickly sat down to change shoes. I grabbed my phone and shoved it and my shoes in to the bag, tugging the strings closed. Colby watched my departure and felt he almost owed me an apology for saving me from an accident of my own making that would have sidelined me for weeks. I pushed through the group by the door and felt someone touch my shoulder. I paused to peek at who had touched me and met Joe’s eyes, his gaze searching as he tried to discern my mental state. I shook my head and disappeared through the door without a word. Joe ambled over to where Colby was straightening lounge chairs and they discussed his morning. Colby admitted I’d given him a good workout and his sweat coated skin confirmed this. He commented that he was interested in adding some form of dance to his training after working with me for two hours. This surprised Joe and Drew laughed at the idea, saying ballet was for girls and gays but Colby suggested I lead the workout one day the following week before he repeated the sentiment. Colby walked away after that leaving Joe to wonder what had gotten in to his friend but he shrugged it off and went for a run before returning to his room to shower.

I went back to my room, slamming through the door without caring Shawn might be asleep on the other side and stomped to my bedroom. I grabbed my clothes and strode in to the bathroom, blaring musing while I showered. I dressed, did my hair, applied makeup, and gathered my things for the return trip. I padded out, arms full of toiletries, dirty clothes, and hair appliances and saw the living room had been restored to its normal state and Shawn had disappeared, leaving me to question where he’d gone. I shrugged and returned to the bedroom and packed up my belongings. I double checked the room for anything I may have forgotten before I stepped in to my shoes and zipped the trunk closed. I grabbed the handle and headed for the door, making for the elevator. I rode down and started across the lobby, hoping to get in to a van without running in to one of the guys but I skidded to a stop when I heard my name. Hunter and Shawn sat at the bar together looking a bit worse for wear and I guessed the steaming mugs in front of them had been doctored with something stronger than cream and sugar. I walked over to where they sat and ordered an Earl Gray tea, hot, with lemon and sugar in a to-go cup, wanting a little caffeine to jump start my day and the bergamot to settle my mind. They teased me about being too pure for them and I laughed in agreement, adding I knew better than to drink with them on an empty stomach. I had learned that lesson the hard way while I was in college, a whole weekend of my life missing in a fog of alcohol, pictures, and sound bites. I leaned my head on Hunter’s shoulder and sighed, a sound he echoed and I wondered if he’d slept at all, dark circles under his eyes telling me he probably hadn’t.

“Hi baby, how was your night?” He inquired, curious what kinds of mischief I’d managed.

“It was fine. No, I didn’t put IcyHot in his singlet though I thought about it. I did learn some things I will have to tell you about on the way home. Do you recall the conversation we had about the future of the company?” I replied assuring him I hadn’t pranked Joe before turning his attention to a more serious matter.

“Of course, we’ve discussed it a few times. What about it?” He inquired, intrigued by where I was going with the discussion.

“You might want to take the suggestions I made seriously. I think you would have the backing of the athletes, past and present. You never know, it might work out and at this point you could only make it better.” I informed him as the bartender handed me the paper cup containing my tea.

Hunter put the tea on his tab and kissed my cheek, “I will see you at breakfast. Try to behave until then?”

“Of course, Daddy!” I kissed his cheek, simpered, and scampered out of reach, giggling as I headed for the first transport of the morning.

An equipment manager took my trunk from me as I approached the van and I climbed inside. They would make sure my gear got to my locker and I trusted them to do this. It wasn’t a long ride to the arena once the van was full and I spent it clearing my head. I set aside my issues with Joe and Colby and what I’d heard the night before to focus on my role. When the van pulled to a stop by the loading bay doors I climbed out and followed the other passengers into Catering. I queued up for food and a fresh drink, having imbibed all of my tea on the ride over. I found the ladies I’d sat with at dinner and we picked up right where we’d left off the night before. Nattie asked me what I’d been doing in the pool room and I blushed, confessing to using the windows to do part of my routine ballet and barre workouts.

“Wait, didn’t Seth follow you? Did he join you? He doesn’t dance. Was he just watching?” Nia asked incredulously, slightly jealous I’d had an audience, the fork full of eggs she’d scooped up stalled before it could enter her mouth.

“Um, he uh, he joined me. I um, I modified the workout so he could um, so he could keep up and I um, I talked him through a lot of it. We um, I uh, I still got what I needed out of it. He um, he seemed to get a good workout in too and um, he’s more limber than you would um, than you would think.” I gave her a naughty wink at the end as I teased the possibilities and the other women laughed as she dropped her fork.

“Really? Well, I mean, I wouldn’t…” She tried to protest but we all knew she’d already thought about it.

I giggled and nodded, knowing she would enjoy Seth if she would talk to him and things progressed that far. The conversation turned to things that had come up during the meeting the previous night, the ladies talking about script changes and filming issues I’d missed courtesy of the daze I’d been in following Vince’s tantrum. They mentioned some random partnerships that’d been made for the evening and I raised an eyebrow but they assured me it happened when people became sick or were injured. I shrugged and went back to eating, listening as they talked about the updates and changes to the filming schedule. We were winding down our meal and sitting back to chat when the Riott Squad put in an appearance. Ruby leaned on the table and leered at me.

“I don’t think she’s scared yet ladies, but she should be! Daddy can’t save you this time, princess! You are on your own and we are going to punish you every chance we get! We don’t tolerate spoiled little rich kids around here! Welcome to the big leagues brat!” Livvy threatened me but it failed to raise my ire remotely, I’d been called worse than this.

I yawned, bored and disinterested and picked up my second mug of tea, sipping at it while I waited on Sarah and Ruby to add their opinions to the mix. I wasn’t disappointed when Ruby tried to intimidate me a minute later.

“I don’t think you are taking this seriously. Let me help you understand how bad this is going to be for you. The second you step through those ropes we are going to beat the shit out of you and we won’t stop until someone makes us. You are the new kid around here and no on, not even these ladies, give a shit about you. No one is coming to help you. You are all alone. Hope you like hospitals, bitch, because you will be in one before tonight is done.” Ruby didn’t hesitate to throw down the gauntlet and I saw why she was the leader of this faction and I peeked at her over the rim of my mug.

I finished my tea and set the cup down, staring a hole through the table for a minute. I looked up at the three women on the other side of the table, considering them until they became uncomfortable. I smiled lazily and leaned back in my chair, my arms going up to rest behind my head like I lounged on a beach chair, not a care in the world.

“Ladies, I will say this once, so please listen carefully. It will be a pleasure to work with you this evening. I’ve done three-on-one matches before several times and I was the one that walked away after every single match. After this is all said and done we will see if your mouths just wrote a check your collective asses can’t cash or if you’ve got the money to back it up. Let’s see if history repeats itself and I am still standing. I won’t lie, my money is on me and you can take that to the bank. Bye now!” I grinned at them and motioned for them to leave, waving my hand in a shooing fashion.

They were stunned by my reaction, the response not what they were expecting from a perceived rookie and I heard the ladies beside me giggle when they had no immediate reply. I had essentially called all three of them out and made it clear they didn’t intimidate me. This did not amuse them in the slightest and Ruby took it personally.

“Fine, you want to act tough we will show you what a bitch you really are. We will see you in the ring and once we are done beating your ass I will remind you of this little chat right before I send you on a one-way trip to the ER.” She made her intentions to end my career clear.

“After you, darling. Have a nice day, ladies.” I replied in a fake Southern drawl as I waved goodbye, not batting an eyelash.

They turned and walked away and the second I saw their back I dropped the act and scowled, sitting forward to watch them disappear in to the crowd. I sighed and rubbed my forehead, the thought crossing my mind that my little devil was going to be working overtime that evening. Everything would come down to how they were standing in the ring and if I could get the referee to isolate Liv for me. If he would I could manage but if they jumped me before the bell rang all bets were off and all of my skills became fair game. I had spent enough time in the hospital and I’d be damned if I was going again any time soon, especially not for them.

“Are you sure that was a good idea? Now you have to face all three of them.” Ronda worried about my sanity as she studied my face.

“I have faced bigger and badder. I will be alright. I just have to work out the details but that won’t happen until we are in the ring. Excuse me, ladies, I have some filming to get done and a fight to prepare for.” I smiled cheerfully and stood up, hoping they couldn’t see the silent fury boiling below the surface.

I walked away, disposing of my trash before I got far. I went in search of Hunter and Shawn and found them at a table with my coworkers, Baron, and Dean. It was awkward to approach them with Baron and Joe at the same table, but I needed to talk with Hunter and Shawn. I wanted clarity in light of my recent interactions with the Riott Squad and needed to adjust my plans for the fight. I rounded the table, squatting between them as I touch their shoulders and I instantly had their attentions. Our conversation was held in sotto voce, tones easily covered by the cacophony in the room. I explained why I was there and what I needed, and their stunned faces made me giggle as they realized I’d jumped feet first in to a snake pit and had no intentions of playing nice. In a matter of minutes, we had formulated a basic plan with a number of modifications and Shawn chuckled, seeing the wheels turning in my mind as I processed their ideas and ran with them. When I was content I nodded and stood up, thanking them for their help. I walked away without a word to anyone else at the table and I felt their eyes follow me as I left the room. I went in to the arena, stepping through gorilla on to the stage, and I studiously strolled the entire ring space. I spent twenty minutes familiarizing myself with all of the poles and their LED wraps and getting a feel for how far I could safely jump in and out of the ring. I touched everything, tugged, pushed, pulled, and pressed on the whole ring and each rope, and made sure I knew how the walls felt and where the weak points were. Comfortable with the space I returned to Catering but the guys had moved to their locker room and Hunter and Shawn were in a meeting. I sighed and headed to my locker room, the blue jeans and purple polo I currently wore not what I’d planned to sport to the ring. In the locker room I opened the box that should have contained my temporary gear and promptly made a face as I pulled the pieces out.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like the color?” Ronda teased me as I looked at the bra and boy shorts in disdain.

“No! Not at all! This was supposed to be black! They sent me the wrong gear!” I stared in horror at the cheerfully loud costume I’d received.

“Hey, that’s a good shade of pink! You will look great! You should go with it!” Natalya defended the Pepto Bismol pink clothes and I pulled a face that made the other ladies laugh.

“No my outfit was supposed to be black on black. Pink highlights are okay but I’d prefer purple. This is… Ew!!! I feel like a teenage girl picked this out!!!” I protested and the laughter persisted.

“Well I’m glad you don’t like it! Those aren’t yours! They belong to a girl in NXT and somehow she ended up with your outfit! Now, strip and change! You are holding up filming with your comedy act!” Cathy showed up with a box in her hands and she handed it to me as she snatched the hideous pink clothes from my hands and shoved them in their box.

“Thank you, Cathy! Bless you! You are a life saver!!” I grinned as I opened the box the older, raven haired woman handed me.

Inside, nestled in the tissue paper, lay my gear. The body suit with the corset built on to it and the boy shorts and matching kick pads all in black were a godsend after the abomination I’d been holding. It lacked the embellishments of the gear I would wear when I was introduced as Undertaker’s daughter but it closely resembled what I’d chosen for my initial gear as the Angel of Death. I pulled on the body suit and boy shorts, sitting to tug on the kick pads over my black ring shoes, a favorite pair of Nikes, and I stood up, turning my back to Nia.

“Would you mind?” I asked her, joy and excitement and urgency blending on my face as I waited for her to pull the ribbons tight.

“Sure! I have to say, Nattie, this fits her much better. I think she made the right choice.” Nia approved of the costume which earned her a beaming smile as I glanced at her over my shoulder.

She’d tugged the ribbons a little at a time making sure I could breathe with each pull. She snugged the ribbons until I was comfortable with the tightness and called a halt. She tied off the ribbons and tucked them into the sides of the corset so they wouldn’t get in the way while I fought. I thanked her and turned back to my locker, cleaning up the clothes I’d spread around. With my space straight I went in search of Cathy, wanting her to secure the edges of my outfit to prevent showing the world more than I was comfortable with. She applied spirit gum and costume tape to various portions of my gear and secured it to my person. When she finished anchoring the leotard and shorts she sent me into the hall to begin filming. I found the dressing room Drew and Dolph had been assigned and waited for the camera crew to finish setting up. I watched them arrange the cameras and lights to obtain the best shots possible once the scene began.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon blurred together as we filmed all of our set pieces and visited Catering for lunch. I was bored much of the day but I appreciated where the script was going even though there wasn’t much for me to do. I was pleased to see Dolph and Drew were beginning to despise each other, my efforts to separate them gradually paying off. I found out my small actions had not only succeeded in fracturing Dolph and Drew, they were causing cracks in the other trio as well. I caught a portion of a set pieces our opponents were filming on my way back from Catering after lunch and Seth was telling Roman and Dean he felt uneasy about getting in the ring while Roman was so easily distracted. Roman flushed and apologized and Dean offered to trade places with him in the match. Roman shrugged and said he wanted to stay in but it was up to Seth who opted to take Dean upon his offer. They tried to talk to Baron and get the change made official but he refused to alter the match that late. Baron told the guys the match was booked as Seth and Roman against Drew and Dolph and Seth would have to get over his performance anxiety, a quick quip about a blue pill making me snicker. They growled and protested but he was adamant. They walked away knowing Seth had to participate but felt uneasy working the match with Roman.

When filming was complete we gathered as a team to eat and I sat quietly, eating slowly to give myself time to digest. The corset wasn’t completely cinched, I only did that for media and appearances but it was snug. It limited how much I could eat at one time and I was well versed in feeding myself a full meal while wearing one. It required I eat slowly in a specific order and allow myself time to digest my food. The guys stayed with me while I ate and I noticed the men were impatient to get on with their evening but they were reticent to abandon me. I told them to go but they refused, sitting with me until I declared myself sated and they all stood up. We cleaned up our table and I stood with them for a minute, their evening on hold until it was time for their match. I smiled at them and assured them I would meet them in gorilla, the holding point for incoming and outgoing wrestlers, before our tag match. Dolph reminded me he was walking out with me and I nodded, feeling a little better with him beside me as we walked away from the group. We left the rest to entertain themselves until we returned and went in search of Shawn. He met us in the hall outside gorilla and began to put me through my warmup. Dolph found the series of kicks, jumps, splits, and arm motions bizarre and a bit funny to watch but they worked to get my muscles prepared for the match.

We had finished dinner an hour and a half before the start of the show and despite cleanup, the walk over from Catering, and warmups, I had a few minutes to kill before we went on. Shawn and I reviewed my plan for the night and as we talked the Riott Squad strolled passed us in to gorilla to wait for their music to hit and begin their entrance. I saw the looks they were sending my way as I chatted with Shawn but I didn’t let it bother me. My warmup had prepared my body and my conversation with Shawn had readied my mind for what was to come and I felt good. I heard their music hit and knew it was time, a touch on my shoulder from Shawn confirming this. I walked to the curtain and waited for my graphics to hit. I’d always walked out to a simple Claddagh and Celtic sounding music but tonight it was a symphonic cover of ‘God is a Woman’ by Ariana Grande and my graphics held roses wrapped in a diamond rosary, hinting I was a high maintenance woman. I struggled to avoid laughing as I walked out and hit my traditional Morgan entrance, a series of cartwheels, walkovers, and roundoffs ending in a split. The fans recognized me after the last three weeks and cheered. The Riott Squad watched it all with intrigued expressions.

Dolph followed me out, something the crowd found confusing. He wouldn’t be helpful at ringside since the main roster still forbade men and women fighting each other. He helped me up from the split and escorted me to the top of the steps, playing the gentleman role to a T. He hugged me before returning to the floor to pace and cheer me on. The Riott Squad had stepped out of the ring when I’d walked up the steps, waiting on the apron for me to finish my introduction. Once Dolph was on the floor I put my hands on the ropes and made to enter the ring. I watched as their movements mirrored mine, bending at the waist and beginning to swing a leg through, and all three prepared to join me. They expected me to step in and so did the referee. I didn’t do what anyone expected. I straightened and grabbed the ropes, jumping up on the pole in the corner and sitting down. I waited there for Liv to come in to the ring alone while fixing the three women with a glare. The ref ordered me to enter the ring and I refused until Sarah and Ruby were on the floor. He sent the two women from the apron and Liv and I entered the ring at about the same time, the smile on my lips and the predator in my eyes unnerving her. Jojo introduced the match, declaring it a one fall, meaning we had to pin or submit the other woman in the ring, and she stepped out of the squared circle. The bell rang and Liv ran toward me, trying to make this a swift and decisive victory. I waited until the last second when she would have no chance to avoid me and I side stepped, my arm snapped out to clothesline her across her chest, and her back made a magnificent ‘Thud’ as she hit the mat. I ignored her and the writhing she was doing on the floor, taking a few running steps to fling myself through the ropes in a Suicide Splash that wiped out Sarah and Ruby for a minute.

The crowd was on their feet, instantly drawn into the match, waiting for the next move. I stood up, jumped to the apron, and hopped to the top of the pole in the corner closest to Liv. I launched myself into the air, performing a perfect Swanton Bomb as originally done by the Hardy Boyz, and flattened Liv. I rolled off of her and stood up while she rocked back and forth on the mat holding her belly. I picked up a flash of color by the ropes and turned to see her sisters were back on the apron and I grinned. I sprinted at the opposite ropes and flung my back against them with a graceful spin, launching myself across the ring with some force. I went through the ropes between the middle and top strands from the waist up in a dual clothesline that struck them at their bellies and sent them sprawling into the floor. I continued through the ropes into a somersault that ended in me standing beside Ruby. I couldn’t touch the tables, chairs, or trashcans but I could use the walls and steps to my heart’s content. I grabbed Ruby by her hair and pants and pulled her from the floor. I flung her into the padded wall, stopping to watch her slide down. I heard the ref yell at me to get back in the ring and I complied. The timing of my jump to the apron was perfect as Sarah managed to get herself up and attempted to charge me. I landed on the apron, avoiding the oncoming woman, and tried not to wince as she ran straight into the stairs, slumping on the floor in pain. I turned my attention to Liv and stepped into the ring, the pink-haired woman trying to return to vertical as she searched for her sisters. I stalked her, tracking her every move as she regained her feet and realized she had no help. She caught me studying her and decided to go on the offensive, a choice she later regretted. She leaped at me and I caught her, pulling her out of midair into my chest and swinging her over my shoulders, spinning and dropping her to the mat in the infamous F-Five that Brock Lesnar favored. She went limp and I rolled her up as the ref counted to three and the bell rang. I bounced to my feet the second I heard the bell and immediately Sarah and Ruby came through the ropes.

I didn’t wait for the referee to interfere, a diving forward roll letting me escape them both as they lunged at the same time for a body that wasn’t there. They struck each other and fell to the mat tangled up as a result. I let them sort out their limbs while I padded to the nearest corner and climbed to the first rope and jumped up to the top strand to hit a split legged moonsault that landed me atop all three women. I rolled off of the pile of bodies and stood up, walking to the opposite corner from where they lay and settled in to wait. The ref checked on them and waived me off but I had no intention of leaving because I was aware that if I gave them a minute the ladies would get up and give me something to do. After a few minutes my patience was rewarded when they stumbled in to standing positions with an assist from the ropes and slowly spread out. They intended to take turns abusing me as they fanned out and started toward me. I straightened, put my arms on the top ropes, and waited for one of them to take the initiative. Sarah trotted toward me first and I gripped the ropes with both hands, using my core and a push from the floor to introduce her to the soles of my shoes. She went to the mat like a ton of bricks, the force slamming her back against the flooring of the ring with a loud ‘Whump’.

I used the opening to create space between Liv, Ruby, and I, tumbling through a pair of forward handsprings that put me on the other side of the ring. I bent at the waist, watching them rotate to face me, and planned to double down on Roman’s spear to finish them both. They exchanged a look and began to run at me, screaming, and I launched myself from the crouch. I flew at them, both arms stretched wide, and my shoulders and chest impacted theirs, arms wrapping around their torsos to pull them to the ground as I landed between them. They lay on the mat gasping and rolling around, and I stood up glaring down at them. I grabbed Liv by the hair and pants, pulled her up from the mat, threw her over my shoulder, and carried her to the ropes. I dumped her out of the ring and watched her bounce off the apron to lay in the floor, a pile of limbs, pink hair, and harlequin clothes. Sarah took exception to this, having watched me decimate Liv while she got her bearings, and she charged me. I heard her coming, felt the vibrations through the mat, and leapt for the top rope. I got my feet on the top rope and flipped myself backward over her head to land on my feet. I took two steps and jumped in to a sling blade attack that landed her on the mat in a dazed pile of limbs that I then shoved from the ring to flop on the floor beside Liv.

Ruby was up by this point and watching in shocked rage as I dumped her partners in the floor outside the ring. She realized I was not the rookie they’d assumed I was and there was no way she was going to rag-doll me around the ring like they had originally planned. She studied my every move as we began to stalk each other around the ring and I smirked, aware that she sought an opening, a weakness. I waited for her to make the first move, took my time sizing her up, and starting her down, and finally she capitulated. Sarah and Liv weren’t getting up fast enough for her and she decided to end me on her own. She attempted to tackle me at the waist, trying to take my legs out from under me and push me on my back. I went in to a back handspring and land outside her reach. She came after me swinging, intent on caving my head in and making me pee blood for a while but I would have none of that. I swept her legs in a graceful seated pirouette with my leg extended forward and scrambled over to twist her in to a figure four leg lock and bent it in to table position. She screamed and pounded the mat, begging for mercy but I was all out of that and concern for her well-being. I sat down and changed the position, pulling her legs around my neck as I stood up and performed a sitout power bomb that made her screams stop. I released her limp frame and stood up, breathing a little heavier than I wanted but pleased with my work.

I leaned over and said, “Now, who is going to the ER tonight, bitch?”

I appreciated the crowd noise, the roars covering my words and her moans. I stood up, walked to the corner, and climbed to the top rope, hitting my victory pose with my arms in ballet’s fourth position, and the crowd roared their approval. I repeated the pose around the ring so that everyone got to see me, spotting Baron in the timekeeper's area as I made the round. I hopped to the floor from the apron and Dolph hugged me before we walked out. I was pleased with how the fight had gone; the easy victory compensated for by the ensuing chaos that had allowed me to shine. A grin split my face as someone started a ‘Honey Bunny’ chant that quickly filled the arena. I blinked back tears as the chant warmed my heart and reminded me that I had fans. I had given no quarter, made use of every opportunity, and walked away unscathed which made the audience happy. At the production table, Hunter grinned from ear to ear and Stephanie grudgingly admitted I’d done a good job. Vince turned apoplectic, his blood pressure skyrocketing as the fans chanted my nickname. Shawn and Undertaker later admitted they thought he was going to have a stroke in gorilla he was so furious. Dolph and I returned to the backstage area, passing the production table where we were pointedly ignored and he sent me to the training room before our next bout. The trainers gave me a quick exam but they found nothing to be concerned about and returned me to my partners. I had time to change into something more appropriate for eye candy and met the men in gorilla, my cheer-leading skirt, blouse, and ballet flats customary at this point. We were the next to last event of the night and I was in fine fettle after beating the Riott Squad, bouncing and prancing beside the men, a big smile on my face.

We walked out to Dolph and Drew’s entrances and graphics and I giggled as the fans cheered them because I accompanied them. I smiled and waved, pleased fans recognized and cheered for me. I felt I was beginning to resonate with them and belong in this world. Dean, Seth, and Roman waited for us in the ring and I hopped up on the apron while Dolph and Drew completed their entrance routine. I leaned against the ropes and caught Roman’s eye, blowing him a kiss and winking in a flirty fashion. Tonight I didn’t care if Drew and Dolph won or not. Dolph was finished with his partner and we had been promised a dramatic end no matter the outcome and that made me a little reckless. Dean glared at me, Seth scowled at all of us, and Roman flushed and couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he saw my antics. This made me giggle and I hopped down and pranced around to the side of the ring we would be standing on. Dolph started at Drew’s behest and Roman opted to go first for his side, the remaining partners waiting anxiously on the apron for the tag. Dean stalked me around the ring from the moment the bell rang and I did my best to keep him busy. I led him a merry chase all about the ring, making it a game as I jumped up and down from the apron, leaped over the steps in graceful grand jetes, and swung on the poles and ropes. I put my feet in Dean’s chest several times to create space, made him trip over the stairs by suddenly changing course, and caused Dolph to clothesline him as he tried to grab me by sliding through the ring. Roman nearly punched Dean on one of our passed through the ring which provided Dolph an opening to level Roman with a superkick. Each incident made me giggle and grin as I stayed ahead of him and he grew progressively frustrated by my agility and speed.

Dolph tagged Drew and stepped out of the ring, leaving the massive Scots to batter Roman’s tired frame as he leaned against the turnbuckles. Dolph tracked Dean and I as we played tag around the ring and decided we were having more fun than he was hanging out on the apron waiting for the tag. He joined me in the game I played with Dean and we picked on the third member of our opposition while Drew tried to dismantle Roman. I heard the sound of skin meeting skin in a distinct slapping sound and glanced in the ring to see that Seth had switched with Roman and knew I could create chaos if given the chance. Dolph saw what I had and our gazes met and he knew what I was thinking. Roman was on the apron, sore, winded, and vulnerable without Dean to protect him from Dolph and I. Dean seemed to guess we were up to something when Dolph and I ran in opposite directions, forcing him to decide which of us was the bigger threat to his partner. Roman watched Drew pummel Seth and tried to get his friend to tag him in again, his attention on the ring and not on what Dolph and I were about to do. Dean started after me, deciding I was the more worrisome and Dolph chose to use that distraction to get one over on Roman. I skidded to a stop and made a quick adjustment to my plan when Dean appeared around the corner of the ring. I used my speed and strength to make the jump on to the apron and push off a second later to land a sling blade that left Dean flat on his back. I sat up and bought myself some time by introducing a cheap elbow to the head of the fallen man, nearly knocking him out cold. I stood up and straightened my clothes and started toward where Roman had been standing.

While I’d handled Dean Dolph had grabbed Roman by the ankles and yanked his legs out from under him, bouncing his face off the apron. As I came around the corner of the ring I saw Dolph had him on the floor and was raining punches on his head and shoulders. I paused and shrugged, not sure what to do for the moment, but as with all things wrestling, life comes at you fast. I giggled as I tracked a movement out of the corner of my eye and followed Seth’s flight out of the ring to land on Dolph and Roman. Dolph rolled away from Roman and sold the head and back pain as he rocked back and forth on the floor leaving a limp Roman alone on the ground while Seth climbed back in the ring. Seth assumed Roman or Dean would get up and help him but Dean was still recovering from the abuse I’d given him and Roman was slow to get up from the beating and being flattened. I saw Drew was nearing victory and checked on Roman, seeing that he was starting to get up. He’d sat himself up and punched Dolph, stilling the blond’s writhing for a minute. He checked himself for bleeding, a sign he would be to his feet momentarily. I couldn’t let him get back in the ring and to that end I scampered around the ring, and curled up in his lap. I pressed him back against the padded barrier wall and kissed him soundly, one hand on his jaw, the other in his hair. I felt his hand settle on my back and he kissed me in return, a soft groan escaping him as he held me. I heard the bell ring and pulled away slowly, smiling sweetly at him as I stood up and pranced away. He knelt beside the barricade, uncertain what had happened until he saw Drew dump Seth unceremoniously at my feet. I squeaked at the sudden appearance of the body and danced back a couple of steps in shock. I quickly knelt beside Seth and checked on him, seeing he was still breathing I sought any bleeding. He groaned at my touch to his chest but let me examine him. I found nothing aside from bruising and I sighed, shaking my head.

“Darling you really do need better partners.” I intoned gently, feeling partially responsible for his present condition.

He was about to reply but we both stiffened as we heard the resounding ‘THWACK’ of metal meeting bared skin. I stood up and saw Dean and Roman pop up from their points of recovery on the floor. The ref had wisely rolled out of the ring and stood yelling at Dolph to stop as he leaned against the apron. The blond stood over Drew with a chair in his hands and he brought it down on Drew’s spine a second time. I blinked. My shocked expression was not forced as I recognized I’d succeeded in breaking them up! Seth managed to pull himself up beside me as Dolph rained down blows with the chair interspersed with kicks to keep Drew low to the ground and deliver as much damage as possible. I jumped up on the apron and would have gone in the ring to slow him down but Roman and Dean appeared at the ropes and Seth stumbled up the stairs. They stepped in to the ring and started to surround Dolph and attempted to stop his assault on Drew. I hesitated until I saw blood, actual viscous fluids not a squib, drip to the mat and knew Dolph may have taken things to far. I slipped through the ropes and would have moved toward Dolph but Roman grabbed my arm and shoved me toward the corner behind him.

“Leave! You aren’t safe here, Morgan!” He ordered me from the ring with a snarl, concerned for my safety and annoyed I wasn’t being smarter.

I retreated outside the ropes and watched as they distracted Dolph and Dean pinned him down while Roman slid the chair he’d yanked from Dolph’s hands in to the opposite corner of the ring. I ducked back under the ropes and crawled to Drew, checking him over as I waited for our medical team to come to the ring. I stopped paying attention to the guys for a minute and the other two were trying to control Dolph. None of us noticed Seth as he observed what we did or the glances he gave the abandoned chair. Roman split his attentions between Dolph and what I was doing with Drew. Dean struggled to control the bleached blond in his arms, his attention solely on Dolph. Seth was left to his own devices, completely unsupervised. I heard the distinct sound of a chair meeting a body and for a second I thought Dolph had gotten way from Dean. I looked up and gasped as I realized I’d heard Seth striking Roman and I scrambled for the safety of the edge of the ring as Seth drew back to swing again. He focused on Dean with the second attack and I heard the chair connect as I slid out of the ring and stood on the floor. I paced as I watched him attack Dolph and his SHIELD brothers with the chair, his feet, and his fists.

I wanted to feel proud of myself for completing my job ahead of schedule but all I felt was nausea as the men in the ring shifted in to survival mode, every warrior fighting to protect himself and stay alive. I shouted warnings to Dolph, Dean, Roman and Drew, begged Seth to stop, and tried not to cry as I watched chaos descend and they all tried to exit the ring with minimal damage. I stared, horrified, as Seth used the Dirty Deeds against Dean, the strawberry blond’s head cracking off the chair to render him nigh unconscious. I almost jumped to the apron and went through the ropes to tackle Seth but I couldn’t, Roman was between us. I grabbed the middle rope and pulled myself to the apron beside the pole as Roman started toward Seth but he never made it. Dolph saw Roman prepare to Superman punch Seth and flung himself at the large Samoan, leveling him with a sling blade. Seth yanked Dolph up by his hair and completed a DDT to knock him out and I surveyed the carnage the two had wrought. Drew lay bleeding on the mat, his head and chest a mess of cuts, darkening bruises, and welts from the chair and Dolph’s fist and feet. Dean was limp on the other side of the ring, a goose egg on his head from the chair. Dolph lay in the middle of the ring, stunned by the DDT, panting, and occasionally moving a hand. Roman regained his wits slowly and started to get up. Seth stalked him, waiting for his last target to recover. I shouted for Roman to stay down and Seth’s head whipped around, realizing I was still there, forgotten as he’d dealt with the men. He turned toward me and I saw he had focused his rage on me, coming at me with ill intent. I jumped from the apron and began to back away from the ring, trying to put distance between Seth and I. The ramp was nearby and I backed up it slowly, thinking he would calm down if he thought I was leaving. Instead he threw himself over the ropes in a Suicide Splash and I was forced to react, flinging myself in to a triple handspring. I came down on one knee and he landed in the floor, the wind knocked out of him. I took off running and leapt in the air, landing a moonsault on his back and driving him in to the floor. He remained down while I slid in to the ring. I ignored everyone else as I crawled across the mat to where Roman sat holding his ribs.

I stopped in front of him and reached out to touch his cheek but he jerked away from my touch, head coming up to see who was there. His eyes met mine and I gasped, pulling back as he turned all of his rage on me. I would have stood up and backed away but a chair cracked off my spine and I was pitched to the mat beside him, arms flung out to break my fall. I groaned and tumbled on to my side, curling up on the mat for a moment, stunned by the sudden attack. I raised my head to see Seth standing over us having followed me in to the ring and taken advantage of my moment of hesitation. I gasped and coughed, fearing he’d cracked ribs with that strike. He drew the chair back, raising it over his head to swing at my exposed flank but Roman stood up and caught the chair in the downward arch. He ripped the chair from Seth’s hand and flung it on to the ramp. He grabbed Seth by the hair and pants and power bombed him to the mat, feeling his friend still. I pushed myself from the mat, selling the pain I was in by using the ropes to pull myself upright, and I groaned, wincing in pain. I knew I would be bruised from nape to tailbone after that impact but I wasn’t going to stay down for some pain. I regained vertical base and saw that Seth was down for the moment, Roman was checking on Dean who was still out, and Dolph and Drew remained where they had fallen. The ring looked like a warzone, bodies littering the mat barely alive after the brutal beatings rendered. Roman started toward Seth, a desire to exact retribution on his features but I got there first.

I grabbed Seth around the neck and back of his pants, got him to his feet, and flipped him upside down in front of me, his head between my knees. I dropped to my knees in a Tombstone piledriver and let go, leaning forward slightly so he would flop to the mat. The move was completely unexpected, the shock value compounded by my stature compared with Seth’s but I succeeded and stood up. I staggered back as I fought tears, pinching my lips between my teeth to still the tremble of my chin. Roman stared, eyes wide and jaw slack in shock as I hit one of the Undertaker’s notorious closes to lay out his former friend without warning. I took a couple of stumbling steps toward him and leaned heavily against his frame, my breaths coming in short, shallow gasps for air. He wrapped an arm around my chest and I turned to see the damage Seth had wrought on him. He was bleeding from a cut to his forehead and I could see bruises forming on his chest and arms, more hidden by his vest on his back. I tugged him toward the ropes and after a minute of hesitation he helped me limp from the ring, accepting there was nothing we could do for those remaining inside. I looked back once but no one moved, the bodies where we left them as EMTs began to swarm the wounded. The EMTs were preparing Drew for a backboard as I turned to face the LED board and I felt sick to my stomach. We stopped just before the exit and Roman turned to face the crowd, raising his arms over his head. The crowd went crazy, shouting and cheering that he was okay, for what they had seen, and for me. I leaned in to him and tried to stem the tears as the backboard containing Drew’s battered body was slid under the ropes and placed on a stretcher. Dolph and Seth were receiving similar treatment to Drew, backboards lying beside them on the mat. Dean had sat up and begun talking but he looked terrible, the EMT seeing to him giving him a dubious look. I wanted to apologize, to take responsibility for all the carnage, but it wasn’t my fault, not entirely. I had simply been the spark that lit the fuse, the dynamite had exploded on its own after that. The aftermath was worse than I’d anticipated and it made me nauseated to witness what my actions had brought about.

Roman wrapped an arm around my waist and we turned to the exit, walking through the curtain together. Gorilla was in an uproar, people running in and out as notes were sent and received from all over the building regarding those involved in the brawl. Vince stared at his monitor in shock, unable to believe what he’d just seen. Stephanie tried to coordinate the flow of missives and manage the damage while Hunter talked the commentators through the closing segment and moving on to the last fight. He saw us come through the curtain and stood up, his gaze meeting Roman’s and I paused which pulled Roman to a stop. Hunter shook his head and pointed to the tunnel out of gorilla and mouthed ‘trainers, now’ making it clear we were not to go to the locker rooms until we had been checked out. We nodded and I could see a faint tremor to his hands, his body shaking as he wrapped up the segment and sent the show to commercial. I couldn’t tell if the shaking had been brought on by excitement, fear, or rage, either way he was unsteady. He wouldn’t look directly at me and that made me think he leaned toward fury which did not bode well for someone, probably me. We managed to stumble in to the training room and I led him to an empty table. The trainers were finishing treatments for the athletes involved in the match before ours, and beginning to examine the rest of our group as they came in. A trainer walked over and he started to examine Roman but the stubborn man refused to be looked at until they had cleared me first. I scowled and fussed, chided, and begged him to let them check his injuries but he was adamant I be seen first. The trainer and I gave up in exasperation and the exam he performed was short and to the point, finding a few bruise ribs and a discolored spine, the bruise from the chair darkening my skin from shoulders to hips, but no significant injuries. I glared at Roman and stomped my foot, reminding him it had been a single blow to the back with a chair and informed him I’d been through more and worse in my life. He nodded, holding up his hands in surrender, and we traded places on the table, letting the trainer see to his wounds. The exam made me cry, his injuries more extensive, the bruising darker, and the cuts deep enough that several required stitches while the rest were closed with Steri-Strips and Band-Aids. Ice was liberally applied to all of his aches and I sat with him during his treatment. A stool at the head of the table let me stroke his hair while they stitched up his incisions, tears leaking from my eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” I murmured once the trainer finished and he was allowed to stand up, the cameras on us as we talked.

“This isn’t your fault. Seth and Dolph lost it and took it out on us. You did nothing wrong.” He refused to blame me for the actions of others as he stroked my arm.

“Um, I may have provoked them to um, to attack?” I suggested and he laughed, shaking his head.

“I doubt that. They have been unhappy for a while. Worst case you lit the match but frankly they were ready to explode. I’m hoping it isn’t so bad that Dean and I can’t work together. He’s going to be angry Seth turned on us again.” Roman appeared disappointed after he absolved me of my guilt.

“Um, it uh, it might be a little while before any of you are in the ring together. I um, I did Tombstone Seth.” I reminded him of the devastation we’d seen and been a part of.

“I know. That was impressive considering the height difference. Where did you learn to do that?” He asked, teasing me with a smile.

“Um, I learned it from my um, from my father.” I set up the revelation that Undertake was my father and the arena went crazy.

“Um, okay, I did not see that coming.” He seemed a little concerned as the cameras went dark.

I glanced passed him as movement caught my eye. Dolph, Drew, and Seth were wheeled in and Dean walked in under his own power but a referee had hold of his arm. The trainers swarmed them, diverting all attention to the newly arrived wounded. Cameras recorded everything but this part wasn’t broadcast, more for continuity of care and educational purposes, the treatments not considered PG. Roman could see I wanted to go to them, to help with their treatment, to apologize, and he put a hand on my arm, stopping my progress toward our fallen friends. I glanced at him, my eyes sad as our gazes met. He felt an ache in his chest when he saw the sorrow in my gray irises, and he pulled me in to his arms. I leaned in to him and bit my lip, the tears truly coming as he stroked my hair and let me cry, grasping my pain as I witnessed the end of five fabulous friends. He hugged me when I took a shuddering breath that hinted the worst of the emotional storm was over and touched my cheek, taking a step back. I wiped the tears and sighed, giving him a sad smile.

“They will be okay, the trainers know what they are doing. Right now you need to focus on your career and let Dolph and Drew sort themselves out. We will… I have to believe Seth, Dean, and I will be fine. We will overcome this. Now, go get changed.” He cupped the side of my face in his massive hand and wiped away my tears with his thumb as he tried to assure me they would survive and I nodded.

“Okay.” I whispered.

I turned and paced toward the door but stopped by Dolph’s table to check on him before I exited the training room. He gave me a thumbs up and a weak smile as the trainers worked on him, packing him in ice and bandaging his small cuts before moving on to treat others, a single trainer left to observe him until he was released. I touched his leg, the only part of him not being worked on and returned his smile with a sad facsimile, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ before I left. Roman observed my concern for and loyalty to my partner and it struck a chord, seeing traits he admired displayed by the woman that tormented him made him reconsider how bad she really was. She had left with him after it was all over, hadn’t she? She had been worried more for him than for herself once they had reached the training room, that showed she cared, right? It was clear I knew who my friends were and I made sure they knew I stood with them even in chaos. He groaned as a trainer came over to check on him, making him lay back on the table while they checked the stitches and bandages. He lay still while they changed out the bloody gauze and removed the ice they’d saran wrapped to his person. The trainer talked him through all of his care instructions, replaced the last few bandages, and released him from their care. He walked over to Dean and checked on his friend, the strawberry blond sitting up and waiting on the trainers to finish checking him out and clear him, more cognizant than when he’d first come in.

“So, Seth turned on us. Again.” Dean grinned, vengeful and indignant.

“Yeah, it appears that way. The question is why’d he turn this time? There was no one to sell out to like before.” Roman expressed genuine confusion over Seth’s betrayal.

“Because you suck as partners! I’ve put my body on the line for you two over and over and gotten my ass kicked entirely too many times, especially recently! I’m the workhorse of this team, of this division! I’m the one that’s always there for you when either of you need me, and not once have you returned the favor! Not once have you come to my rescue! Not once have you come out to the ring and helped me out! Never!" Seth sat up against the restraining hands of the trainers and roared his exasperation at his friends, their jaws dropping in shock as he accused them of failing him.

“We are always there for you! We’ve saved your ass more than a few times! We would do it more but you never ask for help! You always say ‘I got this’ and we let you go because we know you do! If you would ask for help we would be there in a heartbeat! We are brothers! Don’t give me that ‘you’re never there for me’ crap! How many times have we been in your corner for a tag match? How many tag matches have we won as a team? And if it wasn’t us in your corner it was another friend! You cannot say we are not there for you and don’t back you up!” Roman yelled back at him, furious Seth had implied they hadn’t supported him.

Dean chuckled, standing up after having been released by the trainers. “You know what, you wanna say we aren’t there for you, that’s fine. You want to run on your own without us, go ahead. You saw how well that worked last time. So go, go be Seth Freakin’ Rollins and burn it down until you can’t do it anymore. When you hit the point you are so broken and battered you can barely walk Roman and I will be there, waiting to pick you up and put you on our shoulders and carry you like we’ve done since we started. Maybe then you will appreciate how often we were there for you, had your back, and helped you win.”

“No, Dean, don’t encourage him. That won’t help, especially right now. We need him on our side!” Roman disagreed with Dean’s view.

“I don’t…” Seth sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t need or want to leave but I needed to vent some frustration. I’m sorry I took it out on you. I… I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry. Please don’t kick me out of the group.”

“I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t take him back. This isn’t the first time he’s turned on us.” Dean was reluctant to accept Seth’s apology.

“Dean, I think he means it. And I get it, I do. I’ve been a horrible partner and put in some terrible performances in the last few weeks. Morgan… I won’t lie, Morgan has been a bit distracting.” Roman admitted, embarrassed he hadn’t been a good friend or partner to Seth.

“A BIT!!” Seth yelled, his hands going up in frustration. “This! This is why I hit you with a chair! She’s not a Bit distracting! She’s your kryptonite! She comes around and you lose focus of everything else! She touches you and you become this love sick puppy and you forget what you are supposed to be doing! Make babies on someone else’s time!”

Dean laughed at Roman’s sheepish appearance, his avoidance of eye contact not helping his plight as they pinned him with pointed looks. He rubbed the back of his neck before spreading his hands and sighing.

“What can I say? She’s gorgeous and distracting and I can’t tell her no! She kisses me and I kind of… I get stupid okay? I haven’t felt like this since I was a teenager!” He was frustrated and embarrassed that his hormones got the better of him.

The others laughed and Dolph joined them. Drew remained unconscious on his board, the trainers swarming around as they patched his cuts and scrapes, checking him for concussions and other injuries. The trainers finishing Dolph’s treatments let him sit up and swing his legs over the table, the four men exchanging glances. Dolph shook his head, meeting Seth’s stare, a grim smile shared between the two.

“Well, that was a wild ride. Is Morgan okay?” He inquired peeking around the men for my smaller frame.

“She’s fine, a little bruise but otherwise she’s good. She should be cleaning up and preparing for her flight home.” Roman assured Dolph his partner was fine.

“Good. She didn’t deserve to be attacked Rollins, you could have hurt her. She just wanted to be sure we were alright after you decided to take a ride on the crazy train. Did you learn that from your ex?!” Dolph fussed at Seth for hitting me.

“Didn’t deserve… She didn’t deserve to get hit?! She’s the reason I’ve lost to Drew for the last two weeks! I think she deserved it, at least a little! Besides that’s what happens when you get in the way and she was between Roman and my chair!” Seth was exasperated and a bit justified in his reasoning for hitting me.

“I know it’s part of the job and taking a chair happens and it’s a rare occurrence when a male talent strikes a female talent but you hit a lady, just remember that! Now, if we are done here I vote we get cleaned up and get some beers!” Dean suggested they vacated the training room in favor of taking up residence at a bar.

“I like that idea!” Dolph agreed as he hopped off his table.

The others nodded, four of the five men leaving the room to shower and grab their gear for the flight home. Drew remained, a doctor examining him, the word ‘neurologist’ mentioned in hushed tones. The departing men took turns touching Drew’s leg and letting him know they would see him at the airport and sharing well wishes for a speedy recovery as they withdrew to the locker room. I was waiting by the dressing room door when Dolph walked up and he hugged me in greeting.

“How is he?” I asked softly, concern writ large on my features, eyes damp as I worried.

“He’s awake and talking which means he will be fine. He will grump, grouch, and demand to be released to which they will comply and we will see him shortly. Now, if you are packed up go ahead and go to the airport. The rest of us will catch up.” Dolph promised Drew would be alright.

“Are you sure?” I hesitated but he nodded and hugged me again. “Okay, I will see you on the plane. You will text me if anything changes?”

“I will. Now go.” He laughed and shooed me from the room.

I went, knowing I’d been dismissed even if it had been intended playfully. I pulled my trunk up the ramp to a van waiting to take athletes to the airport and handed my stack of luggage to the driver. I climbed in and a few of the other talent smiled at me, congratulating me on my victory for which I thanked them. The van left a few minutes later, every seat filled, and we quieted down to rest on the short drive to the terminal. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, letting it loll with the movements of the van, my mind full of the events of the day. I smiled and took a deep breath, relaxing as I allowed myself to be pleased with how the night had ended. My partners had beaten each other nigh unto death and a friendship had been broken. I had managed to walk away from it all with bruises and a few scrapes. I was pleased with my performances, having achieved one of my goals, and I thought everyone else would have been also but my messages soon proved otherwise. I read through the missives left on my phone and forwarded them to Hunter. I never directly interfered with his marriage but from an early age I’d learned to tell my dad everything no matter how trivial it seemed and how angry it made him, the ire typically directed at the adult involved. To that end, I shared all emails, texts, and other notes I received from his wife and father-in-law as well as any other parties he needed to be aware of. Stephanie’s message was professional and simple, ‘Good job, now finish the rest of your task’. I didn’t expect anything more or less from her in this capacity. As my stepmother, she surely hated I’d succeeded but as my boss, she was pleased. This balanced the two as finely as she could manage without showing me any kindness. The polite, professional tone might as well be praise since she wasn’t cursing or screaming at me. I accepted it for what it was and tried not to read into it. It was the closest thing to kind she’d been in a while and it buffered the vicious nature of the next message, protecting my spirit against the rage I read.

The second message was the opposite of what I’d gotten from Steph. It was full of blisteringly hateful comments from Vince and I grew nauseated reading it. I thought about deleting it straight away but I knew Hunter needed to see it. I forwarded it and closed my eyes, shuddering and feeling like I’d been coated in a layer of acidic slime. My emotions were once again raw and exposed. I forced myself to finish my messages before we arrived at the airport. A few emails about work were easily answered, the message from my paternal grandmother telling me they were following my story and were proud of me made me smile and helped soothe my emotions. The last email came from my adviser informing me I’d passed my exams and completed my master’s degree in athletic training as well as my certification boards. I blinked back happy tears, grinning with pride and comfortable in the knowledge I could step out of the ring and into a job at any point. I had three interviews pending should I choose to take of them and I considered limiting my appearances to work with a sports team or teams if I could manage employment with minor league teams on opposite schedules. I didn’t want to consider life without wrestling but realistically I understood it could end at any second and I needed the stability and income another job would provide when the WWE became a memory. I sent my adviser a polite reply, thanking him for updating me on the status of all of my exams then shut off my phone. I felt the van slow, the turns getting wider as we approached the terminal, and gathered my things in preparation for exiting the vehicle. The van pulled to a stop in front of the gate that led to our hanger, the chartered jets inside awaiting their passengers, and we began to climb out. I picked up my sling bag as I stood up, following those in front of me out of the van, and we gather at the rear of the vehicle to grab luggage as it came off the rack. I pulled my stack to the staging area for my flight and ascended the stairs. Aside from the crew, I was alone, their small noises hardly disturbing in the quiet as they completed pre-flight checks and secured supplies for the trip. Clara smiled at me as she handed me a bottle of water and I thanked her politely. I secured my seat-belt and my belongings before pulling my book from my bag and relaxed while I waited on the men to arrive.


	9. Sometimes Love Needs a Little Push

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the disastrous end to their night Joe decides to poke at Cailin's connections to the Undertaker. When Hunter hears what happens he decides to take matters in to his own hands. He gives them both some advice and firm shove in the other's direction. Does it work?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the week of training between their last fight and the SummerSlam Pay-Per-View. I hope you enjoy it. This is the jumping off point for the rest of the story. The whole weekend will come over the next few weeks and will be broken up in to chapters as there is a lot of content to be covered. I will do my best to get it out to you as my schedule allows.

Chapter 9 –  
I’d curled up on the seats in my row and read a page and a half before the first person arrived from the arena. I heard the flight attendants talking to someone and looked up to see Hunter walking toward me over the pages of my book. I continued to read while he stowed his bag and anticipated a signal from him when he was prepared to discuss the evening. He settled across from me, broad shoulders filling the seat back, and leaned across the gap to touch my knee. I looked up at the contact and our eyes met. The gaze was held for a minute and I sighed. The quizzical mien he wore tinged with concern was all I needed to deduce why he’d been upset earlier. I put my book down, swung my legs off the seat, and stood up after I released my seatbelt. I moved across the gap to sit beside him, my back toward him as I sank to the cushion. I gathered my hair in my hands and I felt his fingers tugging at the material of my shirt where it was tucked in to the waist of my pants. It only took him a minute to untuck the hem of my shirt and expose the bruised skin underneath. I heard him growl as he examined the only injury I’d sustained. He took in the purple, blue, and black splotch that ran from my shoulders down in to my pants and the rumble that came from his chest made me smile. I waited patiently for him to release my shirt and fuss at me about getting hurt. He let go of the fabric and I heard the chair rustle as he sat back against the leather of the seat. I tucked my shirt while taking the twin steps needed to return to my seat and buckled up after sitting down. I picked up my book and set it in my lap, watching him regain his composure. He was relieved it wasn’t worse but unhappy I had been hurt at all. I smiled, our mutual experiences with steel chairs reminding us this could have ended much worse. 

“I’m okay, really, I’m just sore. Tomorrow will be the worst of it. And honestly I got off lucky. The guys are in worse shape than I am. You can relax, I have been far worse off than this. Practice tomorrow may suck but I will be fine and in a couple of days you won’t be able to tell anything happened.” I assured him with a hand on his knee I would be fine.

“Alright baby, alright. Forgive me for worrying about you. I know you will be okay but I still get concerned every time you take more than a punch in the ring.” He relaxed in his seat but I saw the smile he gave me fail to reach his eyes, the fear caused by the evenings events robbing him of any joy in the positives. 

We continued to chat about the evening and he listened to my perspective on how I thought things had gone with an intrigued ear. I admitted I was surprised it had ended the way it had. Part of me was proud of completing one of my objectives but the other part was upset over how violently it had been achieved. He agreed it had gotten out of hand and that there may be repercussions but nothing definitive had been meted out yet. We quieted as movement toward the front of the plane heralded the arrival of someone. The guys filed in and Drew was with them giving credence to Dolph’s prediction, but they also had a trainer in tow. The presence of the tall Scotsman surprised me, his injuries having convinced me he would spend the night at the hospital undergoing tests and treatment. Instead he was settling in to a chair as the men found their seats and settled in for the flight home. Once we were off the ground we slept as long as we could, the physical toll of the night demanding payment. The trainer kept Drew up all night, watching for signs of stroke and concussion much to the dismay of the brooding Scotsman. We slept as long as we could, the descent waking most of us as the pressure changes cut through our dreams. It took the brakes engaging for Hunter to be jarred in to consciousness and I bit back giggles when he jerked awake. Grumbles and groans were heard across the cabin interspersed with swearing as we made our displeasure at being aroused know to all and sundry. Twenty minutes later we were parked in the hanger, off the plane, and gathering luggage. The SUV Limousine that waited to take us home purred quietly while the driver stood patiently beside it. We zombie shuffled in his direction and he opened the back as we approached. We made short work of loading our bags and climbing in to the vehicle. We found seats and dozed off during the short ride to the hotel, snoring filling the cabin. Heads popped up as we felt the vehicle slow to a stop and people began to grab their small bags. The driver opened the rear while we piled out and we grabbed our luggage on our way inside. We strolled across the lobby to the elevators and stepped in to an empty lift. We rode to our floor in silence, striding off when the doors opened, and headed to our respective rooms. I had leaned against the wall on the ascent and Hunter’s hand on my shoulder was the only thing that kept me from pitching to the floor when the lift stopped. I managed to walk with the group to my room but I could barely keep my eyes open.  
I swiped my card and pushed the door open. I let it swing closed behind me once the trunk was clear of the entry and headed for my bedroom in the pitch. I opened the trunk and pulled all of the clothes I’d worn from inside along with my gear. The clothes went in my laundry bag, the ring gear went in the closet, and I considered that sufficiently unpacked. I changed out of my clothes and in to pajamas, ready to sleep and added the dirty shirt and pants to my laundry bag. A quick trip to the bathroom completed my nightly routine and I returned to the bedroom, curling up in the pillows and blankets to sleep. I sent Hunter a quick goodnight and saw I had a message waiting for me. I opened it to find a sweet missive from Baron, his encouragement, caring, and praise making me smile. I forwarded it to Hunter and turned off the light, sliding down beneath the covers to sleep deeply for a short while. My alarmed chirped entirely too soon, the few hours of sleep I’d gotten hardly enough to make a dent in the repose debt I owed my body. I slid drunkenly from the bed and groaned, my body stiff from the abuse of the night before. I staggered in to the bathroom and turned the shower on, letting it heat up while I brushed my teeth. The warmth of the water helped loosen up my muscles and I took my time cleaning up to give them a chance to relax. I reluctantly shut off the water and stepped out, spending my last few minutes dressing and packing. I moved around the room easier than when I’d gotten up and the continued movement helped. I met Hunter in the restaurant and we sat down to breakfast together.

“You look like hell. Did you sleep? You aren’t getting sick are you? Should I take you to the doctor?” Hunter asked after my health as he touched the back of his hand to my forehead.

“I’m fine, it’s nothing a good night of sleep can’t fix. These late nights are rough.” A yawn punctuated my last statement and I pushed his hand away.

He was reminded that growing up I’d never been one to stay up late in the evenings due in part to early morning hockey practices and now my workouts. “I’m sure for you they are. I forget you aren’t a night owl like the rest of us. It’s okay, you will adjust once you are on the road full time!” He smiled sympathetically and began to eat.

“Um, actually, I uh, if it gets to that stage I was thinking about limiting myself to um, a brand show and one house show a month.” I informed him softly, staring at my fork as I picked at my food.

He choked on the bite of omelet he’d taken and the conversation stalled until he stopped coughing enough to rasp out an insulted, “Excuse me?!”

“I um, I got an email from my academic adviser last night. I um, I passed all of my exams. I have my master’s degree just like you wanted. I um, I sat for my certification board just before Steph sent me here and um, I um, I passed that too. I’m a uh, a certified athletic trainer.” My hopeful smile begged for forgiveness as I stabbed a piece of egg and waited for his reaction, expecting a blend of pride and disappointment.

“You did?! Baby that’s wonderful news!! I am so proud of you!! So I am guessing if you are planning on a limited touring schedule you’ve already put your resume out there?” He glowed with pride, every wrinkle in his face creased as he grinned, joyful with the news of his daughter’s latest accomplishment.

“Yes, I have. I’ve sent it to every professional sports team out there including a few obscure ones. I’ve had phone interviews with three minor league teams, and I’ve had two pro teams email me about coming out to their facilities to interview. I’ve also had a few of the professional ballet companies call about my availability.” I confirmed that I’d gotten my information out to people that mattered. “I have let everyone know that I cannot interview without an official notice of passage for my certification, but I have that now so once this script has run its course I will arrange those visits. Depending on if I am staying or not and my work schedule will determine my touring dates. I won’t stop training, but I will have to plan that around my work day. I hope Shawn likes wherever we end up, it could be cold!” I laughed, informing my dad I planned to train and work wherever I was hired. 

“I’m going to miss you if you don’t get hired near one of the training centers or the main office. I hardly see you anymore and if you move across the country I will only see you on our west coast swings, at shows, and when you come east, if you do. That’s not enough, especially now that I’ve gotten used to seeing you every day.” He pouted, disliking the idea of my moving away and taking his best friend with me.

I patted his hand and pointed to his plate, “Eat your breakfast. You have a long day at the office coming up. And stop pouting. You will see me because I will be at the show every week and some house shows will overlap our games so I will make time to see you when that happens. You are always welcome in my life and in my home. You know this.” I reminded him we were family and never truly far apart even when separated by miles.

He glowered at me for a minute and I tried to maintain my composure, but I failed. I dissolved in to a gale of laughter and his mood broke, a grin splitting his lips and wrinkling his eyes. He squeezed my hand and we ate the rest of the meal in companionable silence. He finished first and sat back, sipping his coffee. The pride and hopes for a happy future for his eldest child exuded from him like a heady cologne and it was hard not to become intoxicated by it. I put my fork down a few minutes later and we cleaned up our dishes, stacking them neatly for the waitstaff to remove. I grabbed my bag from the floor and we walked to the door, our routine ingrained. We debated the pros and cons of living in any city housing a sports team as we walked to the car. Jokes about snow and teasing about bugs made up the bulk of our banter during the drive and he laughed at some of the faces I made in response to some of his comments. He parked at the gym long enough for me to grab my bag, kiss his cheek and part with a grateful quip about Alaska’s lack of sports teams. He was guffawing as he pulled away and I headed inside in a good mood. I ambled in to find the guys had gotten an early start to the morning lifting session and I quickly trotted to the locker room. I made short work of changing shoes and putting my bag away before joining the men on the weights. I started my reps and soon caught up to where they were in our progression. I was annoyed they had started early and I poured that energy in to my efforts. I was still tired from the night and I chose to move a little slower, pay closer attention to details, and focus on each movement to prevent injuring myself. Despite this demand for a hyper-aware state throughout my circuit I got in a good workout and felt better than I had when I’d begun. The guys appeared to have slept well and their behavior echoed this. They chatted while they worked, goading each other in to silly little competitions and taunting each other with how much weight they had moved, number of reps they’d performed, and how swiftly they had completed it set. It struck me as ridiculous and unsafe, a sure way to rupture a tendon or strain a muscle. To that end I ignored them and turned the music up in my headphones to a level that bordered on deafening. They tried to pull me in and coax my participation in the dares and challenges but they gave up after a bit. The focus I showed and my aloof behavior hinted I needed to be left alone, the dark circles and slightly slower than normal pace indicating a fatigue I rarely exhibited. The trainers encouraged them to finish their workout and leave me to mine and they complied, sensing I needed space.

I completed the last of my reps a minute or two behind them and started toward the ring. I noticed when Joe fell in step with me and questioned what he could want from me after our interactions over the last two days. I’d turned down the volume of my music when I had put up my last set of weights and turned toward the ring. I had also changed the songs I listened to, transitioning from a heavy rock station to a personal channel. The playlist I chose went along with my plan to go through my rookie exercises in one of the open rings to help focus and make the best use of my energies. I would have heard him talk if he had chosen to say something to me but he touched my arm to get my attention. I stopped and rotated a quarter turn to face him and pulled one of my earpiece from my ear. I wondered why he deigned to talk to me when he generally kept his distance during the week and it made me a little nervous. After the incident on the plane and his outburst at dinner on Sunday night I wasn’t certain what he would say.

“So um, you and Undertaker?” I could see he craved the knowledge about my relationship with Mark and realized at the same time he’d taken my comment on the plane about being direct to heart.

“What about him?” I retorted, delaying the inevitable in an attempt to maintain the element of surprise.

“I noticed he seemed really interested in you during his visit last week and uh, last night you uh, you said your father taught you to um, to do the Tombstone. Is he family?” I blinked, impressed with his attention to detail and his logical, well-reasons train of thought but what struck me was his eager need to be validated.

I struggled not to laugh and crossed my arms over my chest, giving my breasts a deliberate lift. “And if he is?” I knew the Pedigree, Tombstone, RKO, Trouble in Paradise, Stunner, and many other closes thanks to Shawn and Hunter but I hadn’t displayed most of them in practice because I spent most of my time sidelined doing rookie exercises or completely ignored.

“Um, well, that um, that would be a hell of a name to live up to.” He said as he forced himself to drag his gaze away from my chest to study my reaction, hoping for a clue to how close he had come to the mark.

“It is a demanding legacy for anyone brave enough to take it on. Assuming it has been passed on to me do you think I couldn’t handle it?” I challenged him, bristling now at the implication he’d made in error, my partner not aware that I’d lived for years with the stigma of a famous father attached to me.

“I think you don’t realize how big of a legacy that is. I think you will have your hands full trying to live up it. I worry you will burnout. That’s all.” He confirmed the insinuation and I saw red.

I swept his feet out from under him, gigging maniacally as he flailed at the unexpected fall. We hit the floor, my smaller frame straddling his as I rode him down and he rolled us over. He caged my body with his limbs, knees and palms on the floor at my shins and shoulders. He would have demanded an explanation but my palms impacted his shoulders and I pulled my legs in to the space between my hips and his. My feet pushed off his thighs and I slid out form under him on my back. He dropped face first on to the floor between my calves and I rolled myself in to backward somersault to create space. I came up in a low lunge and waited on him to get up. He pushed in to a plank and pulled his knees in to his chest, rocking back on the balls of his feet to squat in front of me. He spotted me a few feet away and started to straighten but a second later he hit the floor on his back as I tackled him. I heard him grunt as my weight carried him to the floor and momentarily winded him. I tumbled over him to land just beyond his head and I scrambled up to take advantage of his stunned state. I straddled his chest before he could get off the floor and put my hands on his shoulders. I leaned my weight in to the press of my palms and bent down to get my face as close to his as I dared without kissing him.

“I am who I am. I know whose daughter I am. I know who my dad is, biological, adoptive, or fictional, it doesn’t matter to me. What matters to me is my performance in the ring week in and week out. If my work up to this point hasn’t proven I am more than capable of any name I bear you clearly haven’t been paying attention. And as for burnout, darling I have been doing this for years. If I were going to burnout I would have done it in the Indies.” I snarled at him, fury in my mien.

He reached for me, trying to grip my shirt so he could dislodge my seat but I used my feet and legs to pin his wrists to the floor. I held him in a crucified pose until I finished talking, denying him any kind of purchase on my person. He glared at me initially, struggling against the force of my muscles pushing his limbs in to the floor. He searched for an opening, any weakness that would allow him to send me sprawling to the ground beside him but he found none. His eyes traveled down my body and he realized he had the perfect vantage point. He could see the curve of my breasts inside my shirt as I leaned over him, the crunched muscles of my abs as I used my weight to keep him pinned, and the length of my legs as I held his arms down, the limbs extended in a perfect split. He’d not seen this view before, my modest, professional demeanor and wardrobe preventing the guys from seeing anything other than my bared limbs and occasionally my belly when I shed my top on the rare day when they actually worked me out in the ring. Now he had a tantalizing glimpse of something forbidden, the length of my shorts providing him a peek at an aspect of my wardrobe none of them had been privy to before. He grinned and his eyes met mine and his mouth moved before his brain could prevent the train wreck that followed.

“Nice thong. The black lace is a sexy touch. Definitely thought you were more of the traditional granny panty type.” He smirked as he said it, knowing the second the words left his mouth he would regret them almost as much as he was turned on by the visual and he prayed I didn’t notice the obvious indications of his desire.

I didn’t think about my response to the words, I just reacted. I sat up straight and tall and my arm swung back then forward again, its aim perfect. The thick, meaty sound of my fist connecting with the side of his face echoed through the gym and heads snapped in our direction as what had been perceived as a friendly tussle turned ugly. The skin I’d struck discolored instantly, the darkening purples and blues under his olive skin along his jaw and cheek showing the imprint of my knuckles as his head lolled to the side. I leaned down and got in his ear for a second, the furious hiss letting him know he’d crossed a line.

“I don’t give a damn about what you think of my underwear. If you get in my way, if you prevent me from doing my job in any way, shape, or form so help me sweet goddess I will drag you to hell and I will leave you there for Cerberus to use as a chew toy!” I growled in his ear.

I shoved his head back to the floor as he turned to look at me and stood up. Shawn grabbed my upper arm as I rose and I shook him off, striding away in a storm of rage. He followed me but he glanced back at Joe in befuddlement, wondering what the other man could possibly have said to infuriate me that badly. He hadn’t thought anyone in the group knew me well enough to truly wind up my emotions that strongly. This was the first time since my ex that he had seen anyone so thoroughly rattle my cage and it worried him. I stalked to the empty ring and flung myself in to my rookie exercises while Shawn watched, his concern writ large for me to see. He peeked at the other ring occasionally to check on the men but they seemed to be managing their practice session without issues. Colby had made a beeline for us when the sound of the punch had filled the room and he reached Joe as Shawn trailed after my departing frame. He offered Joe a hand up and chuckled at the bruise that had already begun to form. I’d left a solid imprint of my fist with the strike and the sound had been hefty, indicating a hard hit. They stood for a second while Joe regained his equilibrium then ambled toward the ring. Nick and Drew waited on the apron for the end of chat and watched the pair walked up. Colby repeatedly glanced at Joe as they ambled to the ring and sighed, knowing his friend had said something he shouldn’t. Curiosity demanded satisfaction and he inquired as to Joe’s transgression.

“She seems in high spirits today. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her turn that shade of red before. What did you say to make her so cheerful?” Colby gleefully asked about the encounter.

“I said something stupid and I knew better than to say it but I couldn’t help myself.” Joe rubbed his jaw, wincing in pain at the tenderness of the skin, working the joint to loosen it up.

“That looks painful. Are you alright?” Colby commented glibly, still smiling.

“Ya think? She didn’t pull her punch! She put everything behind it Colby! Bitch can hit!” Joe snarled at his friend, annoyed that Colby found the situation amusing.

“Yeah, she can. I’ve been on the receiving end of a few of her punches when she’s forgotten to pull them. It was not pleasant. Now, seriously, tell me what you said!” Colby sympathized for a minute then pried, the curiosity eating at him.

“I might have mentioned I could see her underwear.” Joe said casually, fighting the urge to laugh as Colby stopped to retrieve his jaw from the floor.

“Are you stupid or just suicidal?!” Colby hissed at Joe once he caught up to him.

“I don’t think I’m stupid but I might be. I mean Cailin is involved.” Joe chuckled as they approached the apron.

“I swear you have a death wish! You have lost your mind. You are fucking suicidal. That is the only logical explanation! This isn’t middle school Joe! Grow up!” Colby threw up his hands in exasperation and walked over to talk to Shawn while one of the trainers made Joe sit on a bench and put an ice pack against his jaw.

I flew through my jumps and bumps, finishing in record time. I rolled out of the ring to join my partners for practice and I was in a foul mood. Shawn warned Colby during their chat to keep his head on a swivel where I was concerned and Colby found out why rapidly. The guys learned that pissing me off outside the ring translated in to a brutal attempt at dismantling their bodies inside the squared circle. None of them were prepared for the shared consequences of Joe’s inappropriate remarks. I flew, dove, kicked, punched, and twisted their bodies until they ached from crown to sole. None of them received an ounce of mercy from me as I beat them all equally, giving Joe a few extra licks for his sins. It made for a long morning and they were never so grateful for the break that saw my departure for the day. Shawn pulled me from the ring to shower before ballet and they groaned in relief. I disappeared in to the locker room and they collectively sat down on the apron to get a drink of water and catch their breaths. Their face showed their exhaustion and their bodies showed the bruises that came from the strikes of an angry woman. They shared looks of overwhelmed astonishment tinged with pain, fatigue, and fear.

“How does she keep going? Where does she get her energy from?” Drew gasped out, leaning heavily against the middle rope.

“As I have said before gentlemen, but will repeat once more, louder, for the kids in the back – SHE DANCES, DOES GYMNASTICS, TAKES BARRE, PILATES, AND ZUMBA CLASSES AFTER DINNER MOST NIGHTS AND SHE WORKS OUT WITH YOU!! And when you are gone she trains with me.” Shawn sighed and shouted my schedule for them laughing as four sets of eyes widened when it finally sank it how busy I truly was.

“Wait, she does additional classes on top of the gymnastics and ballet? When does she find time to sleep?” Nick panted out, his face full of shocked misery. 

“She sleeps every night, just like you. The difference is she manages her schedule very closely. She makes sure she gets the hours she needs and she sleeps quit peacefully from what I have observed. Interestingly enough she told me this morning when she came in she didn’t sleep enough thanks to traveling yet somehow, despite coming in on four hours of sleep, she’s turned you all inside out. Pretty damned sad showing from you lot. Now, get back to work!” Shawn laughed at them as he ended their break.

They groaned but followed orders, getting back to their practice session. The rest of the day was calmer on both ends. The guys were able to work through the rest of their practice time with more focus and less pain. Meanwhile ballet focused my mind and energy thus quieting the rage while gymnastics allowed me to burn off the residual energy my anger had provided. I made it to Zumba and managed to push through the class but when it ended I nearly fell over from exhaustion. I stumbled to the SUV and dozed as Dave drove to the hotel where I staggered to the elevator, leaning against the wall as the car rose through the shaft to my floor. I wanted a shower, my body sweaty and sore after a day of working out. I planned to put on pajamas and order room service after I cleaned up, my stomach threatening my spinal cord if food wasn’t found forthwith. I stepped off the elevator as my phone began to ring and I saw that it was Hunter, my finger swiping across the screen to answer.

“Hi baby, how was your day?” He asked in a cheerful tone.

I assumed he had already talked to Shawn so I told him the truth, “I punched Joe in the face today.” I sounded as tired as I felt.

“You what?!” He sounded shocked and I wondered if perhaps I was wrong, he hadn’t spoken to Shawn yet.

“He deserved it. He looked up my shorts.” I left off the majority of the story as I answered him in a defensive tone and I heard Hunter sigh.

“Do I want to know how he ended up in a position to see up your shorts in the first place, young lady? I thought we had worked out this issue ten years ago!” He teased me and I flushed, remembering the finishing school he’d sent me to as a teen and my struggles with sitting properly in a skirt.

“Um, he um, made me mad and um, we kind of argued. I um, I took him down and sat on him. He uh, he kept grabbing at my legs so I uh, I used my feet to hold his arms down. I uh, I went in to a full split and pinned his wrists to the floor. He uh, he decided to be vulgar and looked up my shorts. He commented on my panties so I um, I punched him.” I confessed to my part in the events and held my phone away from my ear to protect my hearing as he roared with laughter.

“That’s my girl, always thinking about how to subdue her opponents! He deserved to get punched in the face for that! You are absolved!” He assured me I had done the right thing. “What were you arguing about?”

“He thinks I can’t handle a mantle. I think he’s guessed my secret and he doubts my ability to carry on the legacy.” I told him, running a hand over my sweat soaked hair.

“What secret? Oh! That one! Seriously, they do not know you at all if they think that mantle will be difficult for you! You grew up in my house. This should be a cake walk. Oh!, Wait, you mean the other thing. What gave it away?” For a second he thought I’d referred to our relationship then realized I meant things with Undertaker and chuckled.

“Mark came to practice last week and gave me a lot of attention. Before he left we had a chat and he kissed my forehead. I also used the Tombstone piledriver on Colby last night if you will recall. Apparently that was enough to confirm suspicions.” I told him the truth and reminded him of how the previous evening ended for me in the ring.

“Ah, so that’s the secret you and Stephanie have been keeping from me. I take it she’s letting Mark adopt you so you can do her dirty work? Yup, this is definitely a first.” He sounded hurt and disappointed as he understood why Mark was there and what his wife was up to.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. It was the only way she could see moving me to the main roster without Vince losing his mind. You know where he stands on all of this. Despite using my legal name and completely ignoring every chance to claim the family legacy we have met resistance from him. The only way for things to progress things was to bring in someone Vince is scared of and we all know there is no one on this earth he’s more terrified of than Taker.” I said softly, contrite as I leaned against the wall outside my room.

“I know baby and I’m glad you are getting the opportunity you’ve fought so hard for. I just wish it hadn’t come this way. I’m not mad at you, I’m angry it has come to this. It shouldn’t have required a duplicitous method to get you here. I am tired of the McMahon drama and as much as I love my wife the insecurities and bullshit need to end. I will talk to Steph tonight and see if we can’t straighten things out. Speaking of tonight, what would you like for dinner?” He informed me he was trying to work through the continuous, frustrating roadblocks to obtain an ending that favored me.

“I think I am going to shower, order room service, and go to bed after dinner. I’m sorry Hunter, but I did not get enough sleep last night and I am not up for going out.” I apologized for wanting to stay in.

“Okay, I will pick up something while you shower. I should be there in roughly thirty minutes. What would you like?” He offered a compromise.

“Could we have Vietnamese? I haven’t had it in weeks and I am craving…” I didn’t have to finish my sentence and I swiped my key-card against the lock on the door.

“Pho, bun doc biet, and an extra order of egg rolls. Anything else?” He laughed as he recited my customary Vietnamese order.

“A Thai tea would be lovely! That is all I need. Thank you, Daddy!” I chuckled tiredly, leaving the door open a crack in case he arrived while I showered.

He rang off with a quick farewell and I traipsed to the bedroom. I repacked my bag for the following day and laid out clothes to change in to after my shower. I cleaned up and enjoyed the heat of the water for a few minutes before I shut it off. I toweled off and dressed, brushing out my hair and braiding it. I grabbed my bag and set it by the door for the following morning. Hunter hadn’t arrived and I grabbed my book, curling up on the couch with my book. I heard a noise and looked up to see him nudge the door open with his foot. He had both hands full of food and I quickly hopped up to take half of it from him. We walked to the couch and set the bags of food on the coffee table. He grunted as he sat down and I ignored him while I unpacked the food. I set out the chopsticks, spoons, sauces, and forks and he cleared his throat. I sighed and began to recite the last two months of my life. From the meeting in Stephanie’s office to the events in the plane’s galley to punching Joe in minute detail I told him everything. His anger over the assault at the carnival resurfaced but he expressed gratitude over Colby looking out for me. I rolled my eyes and made a sarcastically disparaging remark about Colby and his lover boy Joe. Hunter choked on his soup and set down the container while I patted him on the back, concern on my face. I apologized profusely until he was breathing again then sat down to eat the rest of my food.

“They aren’t lovers, little one, but they are best friends! Colby and Joe are very much straight males with an interest in women and occasionally it is the same woman. After what happened on the plane surely you have figured this out!” Hunter was still red but this time the oxygen deprivation came from laughing at me.

“Oh, well the way they act at the gym seems to contradict that so you could have fooled me!” I retorted in a sarcastic tone.

“Honey, in the ring they are their characters. It is what happens outside of the gym and the venues that you have to look at. I know you are busy working and taking classes but I swear sometimes you miss what’s right in front of your face! They are just as curious and interested as Baron, Joe in particular. We’ve talked about this a couple of times! Between the kiss on the plane and his jealous tantrum at dinner the other night as well as his behavior this morning I feel like you should have picked up on his interest in you already. Truth be told you could do worse. They are all good looking men that are searching for another shot at love and any of them would be a match for you mentally and emotionally. Joe’s only edge is that he’s also Catholic like you.” My dad reminded me of Joe’s interest while confirming my coworkers were heterosexual males and stunned me by again encouraging me to form a relationship with one of them. When he noticed my gawking expression he blinked and gave me a confused look, “What?”

“You do realize that if I start a relationship with any of them it will make work very awkward right?” I pointed out the slight issue of the task I’d been set.

“That is not remotely impactful. Everyone knows life inside and outside the ring are two separate things. They are and are not their character and they will respect that while your character may do them wrong you won’t. They will be able to differentiate between the two if you let them get to know Cailin as well as Morgan.” He grinned and pointed to an eggroll, dissecting my argument in seconds.

I nodded and he picked it up, cracking it open over his bowl. He let me ruminate on his words while I ate, allowing me time to mull over the ramifications of a relationship with one of the men in the stable.

“It is clear that you are comfortable with the idea of me dating again. You seem determined to make my next boyfriend one of my coworkers and unless I’m mistaken you have already chosen the one you want it to be. But have you really thought about whether or not you are ready to let them date me? I mean I would hope you are pushing things this hard because they have done something that has convinced you of their worthiness. I seem to recall you threatening the life and limb of the next man that attempted to date your daughter after what happened with the last one.” I inquired casually, bringing up a valid question.

“I know I issued the threat and it still stands. Any man that hurts you will find himself six feet under. That does not mean you are never dating again. Quite the opposite. I would like to see you testing the waters and perhaps finding someone that will make you happy. That is my greatest wish for your life – that you find happiness and if it is with someone in the com[any then that is even better. You have had a twinkle in your eye that I have not seen in a long time and there is a fire in you that I thought had been banked if not extinguished. The joy came back after you started working with those four. Now, I don’t know if it is because we are close again or if it’s one of them making you smile but I am happy to see it. If it is one of them and they will continue to make you happy then pursue it, please. Just know that if they hurt you I will break them in to tiny pieces.” He gave me a hopeful smile.

It was awkwardly comforting to have my dad’s support to pursue a relationship with any of my coworkers or anyone really but for some reason that seemed to be something I had been craving. Knowing that he would not only support me but be my avenging angel should something go wrong made me feel a little safer as I considered whether I wanted to put my heart on the line again. He was right, I was happier and more fulfilled than I had been in a while and I saw potential when I looked at my coworkers. There was the possibility of friendships and maybe even a lover in the quartet and that was an avenue I’d never hoped to consider again. Should I pursue this path I would have to move slowly and give myself the time and space I needed to truly get to know whichever man I chose to date. I couldn’t risk being hurt again, the second time might truly kill me. 

“Thank you, Daddy. I will think about it. Maybe you are right.” I replied softly, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

I picked up the last eggroll and cracked it over my bowl, nibbling at the steaming contents. We finished our food in silence and cracked our fortune cookies. We shared the slips of paper inside and laughed at the silly phrases on each one. We talked for a few more minutes but the yawns that punctuated my sentences hinted at how tired I was. He could see the sleepiness in my face and shooed me to bed. I protested but he promised to clean up and lock the door behind him when he left. I sighed and nodded, padding to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair before ending my day. I slid in to the sheets and was asleep in seconds, the exhaustion overwhelming me and dragging me down in to darkness. He disposed of the remnants of the food and all of the trash, taking the bag to the door and setting it outside. He returned to the room to turn off the lights and check on his daughter one time before he departed. Content that I was sleeping soundly he pulled the door behind him on his way out and headed for his room to catch up on a few emails and get some rest. I slept through the night, the dreams of warm attentions from a shadowed figure made my sleep both restful and disturbed at the same time. I sat up and stretched, feeling energized and ready for my day. I showered, brushed my hair and teeth, tamed my mane in to a pair of braids, and dressed for my morning. I had a few additional minutes to prepare for my morning and I took advantage of them by properly securing my hair. I snagged the duffle bag on my way out of the room and pulled the door behind me. I strode the hall and found the elevator waiting for passengers, riding down to the main floor. Hunter waited by the lifts for me and we walked to breakfast together and sat down to a good meal before our day began. We talked about the men in my life, a favorite topic that seemed to consume him as of late and he extolled and lamented aspects of the personalities of each one. I listened and commented at times but mostly I accepted that he was not going to let this go and allowed him to prattle on. 

After our meal we drove to the gym but unlike every other day he parked and got out instead of going to the office. We usually trained together on the days when the guys were out of town but this week was an off week for everyone. There were no house shows ahead of the Pay-Per-View event on Sunday so the guys would be in the gym for the duration of the week. He walked in beside me and spent the day walking through practice with us, talking to each of us, and observing behaviors in and out of the ring. He specifically watched how I worked with the men, chuckling at my lack of patience with them, and the effort and ingenuity I put in to everything I did. He saw how frustrated the men became when I got one over on them, their inability to counter the majority of my unpredictable moves aggravating them. He encouraged us to continue to spar, giving them time to see how I could fit in to their plans, showing them the diversity of my skills in conjunction with their own and the story they were trying to tell. When it came time for me to leave for ballet he pulled me out and murmured his farewell along with a reminder of dinner plans later then sent me to shower. Without the distraction of the woman the men were more focused, their familiarity with each other and their skills allowing them to settle down. Hunter worked with them for the next few hours while they tested and rejected choreography. He gave them hints on how to incorporate their thirds during sequences as they worked through the planning process and they considered his advice. The afternoon wound down and they completed their practice, the days that followed more of the same. The match gradually came together and we found our rhythm, countered and played off of each other, and went out of our way to make the other participants look spectacular. Hunter watched every practice, encouraging and critiquing, editing and suggesting pieces of choreography to make the match worthy of being the main event. Every night the guys spent time wrapped in ice bags, resting under heating pads, and drinking water in preparation for another day of intensive training while dissecting the day as they lay on their tables in the training room. I received similar treatments every night, either returning to the gym to recover with the guys or in my hotel room with Alex, my favorite trainer. It was exhausting and exhilarating all at once to know we would be performing last and that created a unique pressure that drove us harder than ever before. Friday we hit our wall, the toughest day of training that week pushing us to our limits mentally and emotionally. It would be our last full day of training before we traveled and we were determined to perfect our match before we left the gym that day. I skipped my classes to spend time working with the men and hoped to have some time to myself toward the end of the day. We ran through the fight in its entirety with every possible variation on repeat until we agreed we were content with what we had put together. The practices had left me little time to prepare for the handicapped match I was scheduled with the Riott Squad and I felt a bit behind the curve on my training for that bout. I asked permission to step out for some time to develop my choreography for my match and the guys sheepishly nodded. Colby apologized for not helping me train and for the group keeping me from my preparations. I assured them I would be fine and rolled from the ring. Shawn walked with me to an open ring and we spent time choosing the moves I would utilize in the fight. The guys paused in their training to watch me work and they were reminded how hard I truly worked when I didn’t have to cater to their egos on a daily basis. The day was long but as it wound down and we hit the point where we had rehearsed all we could and every probably variable save one was accounted for we called it a night. The one thing we all agreed on was that I would find a way to pull off the impossible in the ring against the three women of the Riott Squad and their votes of confidence made me feel better. 

We wandered in to the training room and each of us chose a table, hiking hips on to the surfaces or sitting down on them as we were comfortable. We talked to the trainers while we peeled off the tape we wore and got settled on to our tables. The next hour was dedicated to recovering, our bodies packed in ice bags and layered with heating pads. I put in my earbuds and listened to music, my eyes closed while I rested and recuperated from the training we had engaged in. Hunter waited until I was oblivious to everything except my music and went from table to table taking the time to speak with each of the men. He encouraged them to reconsider parts of the choreography, hit other aspects harder, and drop some moves entirely. He and Drew talked for a while, the dark haired Scotsman asking questions of the veteran to better prepare for what their female companion might do. Drew ended up departing the conversation with a better appreciation for the girl but no more insight because, as Hunter told him, the girl was an anomaly. He came to understand that even Hunter and Shawn saw her as unpredictable, vicious, and inventive in the ring but patient, kind, and generous on both sides of the ropes. Hunter added a quip about her living up to her nickname in NXT and Drew took the bait, inquiring what I’d been called. He blinked in bafflement when Hunter laughed and said “They called her Honey Bunny” then explained how the name came to be. They ended up chuckling over my antics in the ring and agreed I was a unique quantity.

Hunter glanced around and saw that the trainers were beginning to unpack and unwrap the five of us and took a step back. He still needed to talk to Joe but he wanted to wait until they had the time to have a conversation that could cover aspects both personal and professional. Hunter sent me to the hotel to shower and dress for dinner while the guys cleaned up at the gym. I didn’t argue, wanting a few minutes to myself to clear my head before I spent more time with my coworkers. I gathered my bag and departed with a quick goodbye to my dad and he picked a bench to wait on while the guys showered. He spent the time checking email and answering texts until he saw the Samoan walk from the locker room. Joe was the last one out, the other guys waiting by the doors for him to exit the locker room. Hunter told them softly to head to the hotel and they nodded, agreeing to meet up with the two remaining men and I in the lobby in a half hour. Joe was striding toward them and Hunter intercepted him as the others ambled out the door, a hand going to his arm to stop him. Joe looked down at him and Hunter motioned to a pair of benches.

“Have a seat, let’s talk.” Hunter invited him to sit down.

The first part of the discussion followed much the same path as Hunter’s chats with the other three men in our troupe. A few of his suggestions were met with protests and they debated how to continue to improve the fight that was planned for Sunday night. The conversation took a turn when Hunter brought up the Cailin/Morgan dichotomy and Joe sighed.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” Hunter offered Joe the opportunity to vent his grievances regarding working with a woman.

“She’s…” He sighed again, “I don’t know. One minute she’s nice, calm, sweet even and the next you are getting mauled by a tiger and you have no clue what set her off.” He paused when he heard Hunter chuckle. “I suppose Shawn told you about the incident on Tuesday?”

“No, she told me actually. I have to admit, I was surprised when she said you looked up her shorts. Seems like a risky proposition if you ask me especially given her propensity to become a ‘tiger’ without warning.” Hunter chortled as he offered Joe a chance to explain himself.

“Yeah, it was a stupid thing to do but I kind of couldn’t help myself. When you have a woman that beautiful sitting on your chest with her legs spread, her breasts almost pressed against you, giving you the perfect view of everything, and I mean the most tantalizing view of her body you have had in the month you have been working with her in exceptionally close quarters well, you take advantage of it. I’m not sure which part was dumber, looking up her shorts or commenting on it. She got her revenge if it makes any difference.” He turned his head so that Hunter could get a good look at the bruise that decorated his face from the edge of his jaw to the curve of his cheek. “Colby’s constantly teasing me about not seeing her as a woman but he doesn’t get it. I’ve known she was female from the second she came through the door. It was seeing her with Baron last weekend that made me realize she’s not just a woman. She’s 'The Woman', the one I have been searching for since the divorce. I didn’t recognize I’d even been hunting for her until that moment. Seeing him kiss her made my heart stop. I felt sick. I couldn’t think about anything other than choking the life out of him for touching her. She was my woman or, well, I wanted her to be mine. I know I shouldn’t have drug her away from him but I felt like I needed to protect her, keep her close. When she left to go back to him it felt like she’d driven a knife in to my chest. I… I don’t know why I said anything Tuesday. I could have, and probably should have, let it go but I needed her attention. I wanted her to see me. It’s… Hunter I feel like I am twelve and have my first crush on a girl and I don’t know how to act.” Joe ran a hand through his hair, scrubbed his face, and looked ashamed in turns, his struggle with his attraction to the woman on his team apparent.

“Is it Morgan or Cailin that attracts you?” Hunter queried curiously, wondering if the other man could tell the difference.

“Is it possible to say both? I might not differentiate the two well but I am starting to learn the difference. Morgan is the more open, engaging, outgoing half. She’s the daredevil. She also seems more emotionally available. Cailin is the quieter, more analytical, safer side but she’s… I don’t want to call her an ice queen because there is a fire under the cold exterior especially when you make her mad. She’s distant, like she’s deliberately trying to keep us all at arm’s length. I’m… I dunno, I’m kind of curious what I would find underneath the ice if I could get it to crack.” Joe allowed himself to be honest, the calm hope in his face, the tentative curiosity in his voice giving credence to his word.

Hunter leaned forward, his face grim as he scowled, “You are the first person to notice the difference between the two and that is good for your chances of a relationship with her. Now, I’m going to caution you, I don’t mind you being interested in her. I think she needs to be dating someone and I don’t mind you dating her. That being said no matter who she dates whether it is you or someone else, if you hurt her in any way you will answer not only to me but to every veteran that girl has worked with. Considering you know Shawn and Undertaker are part of her life I’d tread very carefully if I were you.” 

Joe’s eyes widened for a second before he stood up, glaring down at Hunter, “Are you threatening me, Helmsley?”

“Call it a friendly warning from someone who cares about her. She’s a special girl and she doesn’t deserve to have her emotions toyed with. Keep that in mind while you decide what kind of relationship you want from her. I don’t want her heart broken because you just wanted a quick lay. Be good to her if you are serious about this otherwise move along if it is just a crush.” Hunter stepped in to Triple H mode and stood up, crossing his arm over his chest.

They stood toe to toe for a minute, sizing each other up while Joe considered the weight of Hunter’s words. Seeing the logic in them and grasping the direness of the warning Joe nodded and headed to the door, departing for the hotel to catch up with the rest of his team. Shawn ambled over to Hunter as the Samoan left and they chatted for a minute before Shawn followed Joe out and Hunter headed for his own vehicle. He drove back to the hotel and sat in the car for a few minutes, thinking about the discussions he’d had with the four men he’d spent the week with. He was beginning to see the possibilities of a future with Joe for me and it gave him a bit of hope that perhaps happiness and love were slowly finding their way in to my life. He exited the car on that thought and strolled in to the lobby. Dave was waiting in the SUV just outside the doors and Hunter wanted to round up his charges so that we could go to dinner. He stepped in to the lobby and we were waiting not far away. I rose when I saw him come through the entry and the others quickly followed suit, our host for the evening waiting on us to join him. We exited the vehicle to find a large black SUV waiting on us and I recognized the driver when Hunter opened the front passenger door. Drew scooted the seat forward to allow Colby and Nick to climb in to the rear seat then returned it to its original position. He climbed in and slid across to sit behind Dave and stare out the window. I followed him in, smoothing my skirt under my ass before I slid across the seat. Joe stepped in behind me and the SUV was underway the second he closed the door. We buckled in and I tried to relax and get comfortable the way a gazelle is at ease between two male lions.

“How was your practice time?” Hunter twisted on his seat to ask me in a soft voice about the time I’d spent working with Shawn, a tap on my knee getting my attention.

“It was good. I think I’m ready for the Riott Squad. It will be a rough match no matter what, it is just the way three-on-one fights go. I figure if I can walk away with some bruises and a handful of welts I will be doing good.” I was optimistic and he nodded.

“Do you need anything for the trip tomorrow?” He inquired kindly.

“Um, they are coming for my final fitting in the morning but I don’t know what time they will show up. I need to do laundry and I have a feeling they will turn up midway through the drying cycle like they did last time. Otherwise I’m good.” I was in a scheduling limbo thanks to the team coming with my ring gear the next day.

“Okay, I will be around if you need help.” He let me know he was available should I get in to a time crunch.

“Thank you!” I tried to be polite and professional but the conversation had a familial vibe to it Joe couldn’t shake.

I sat back and Hunter struck up a new conversation, querying each man what he wanted to see done with their character once this feud finished. The rest of the ride and the majority of dinner was boisterous, the conversation around me lively as the excitement for the weekend built. I didn’t say much, eating my meal while the men around me chittered like magpies. Somehow I kept my thoughts to myself but a few times Hunter seemed to know exactly what I had on my mind, chuckling as he glimpsed a slight change in my demeanor. I met his eyes every time and something as small as the quirk of my mouth or the twinkle in my eyes would tell him where my mind had gone. He laughed and I knew he’d guessed what I’d been thinking each time, our decades long bond giving us the ability to converse without words. The guys noticed but they couldn’t figure out what had caused Hunter to start laughing and my placid expression gave nothing away. The meal came to a close with few answers for them and Hunter subtly picked up the check. I had counted on this when I’d ordered and had tailored my meal accordingly. His behavior never gave a hint of having paid for the meal or that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

He shooed us from the restaurant while he signed the tab under the pretense of taking a quick call. We strolled out and stood on the sidewalk looking down at the beach. Colby and Nick decided to take off their shoes and take a quick trip down to the surf. Drew held their shoes and socks while they raced across the sand, whooping and hollering like children and I laughed. Hunter joined us and he stood talking to Drew, leaving Joe and I to stand on the boardwalk and watch our friends playing in the water. Hunter gave Drew most of his attention but kept half an eye on us, wondering if Joe would do anything. He sensed his warning had gotten under Joe’s skin and he hoped their chat would embolden the man to make some sort of overture. I giggled as Nick and Colby played in the surf, splashing each other like children and yelling taunts as they darted up and down the beach. Eventually Drew got bored and called them back to the boardwalk much to their dismay. Joe had remained by my side observing my reactions to the silliness of our coworkers but he hadn’t said anything or attempted to touch me in any way. It was like having a bodyguard I didn’t need watching over my shoulder. I turned and ambled back to the SUV to give Colby and Nick time to catch up and I felt a hand settle on my low back. It was a possessive move for someone to make and I heard a growl come from Hunter. A quick glimpse in his direction confirmed he strolled to the vehicle on the other side of Drew, several feet away. I turned toward the owner of the hand and peeked up at Joe but he was mid-sentence in a response to something Colby had asked him as he caught up with us. We paused beside the SUV while Colby and Nick cleaned off their feet the best they could then climbed in to the rear seat. Drew handed over their shoes and socks before climbing in himself and sliding across the seat.

“You look nice tonight.” Joe murmured in my ear as we waited on Drew.

“Thank you.” My tone was polite if stiff and he wondered if I were still mad at him.

“You um, you looked good in the ring today. I uh, I think the Riott Squad is going to have their hands full on Sunday. You uh, you had a good day from what I could tell.” He tried a second time to initiate a conversation as we waited on the guys to get settled in to the SUV.

“It was alright. I’m not sure I’m as prepared as you think I am. I guess we will find out on Sunday. You are right, all things considered it hasn’t been a bad day.” I remained vague in my answers, stepping away from him to follow Drew in to the vehicle.

I tucked my skirt under my rear as I sat down and scooted to sit by Drew, catching a look from H that made me shrug. Joe sighed and gave up for the moment, at a loss for how to break the frosty exterior I wore like armor short of making me angry. We rode back in silence, content and a little sleepy after a delicious meal and some fresh air. My mind flitted through a dozen things I needed to get done before we left on the morrow, my attention on the city rolling by us outside the windows. It was a lovely view of water, buildings, boats, bridges, and trees and I appreciated it, enjoying it while I could. The SUV pulled up in front of and the doors opened. Drew and Hunter stepped from the vehicle and strolled to the sidewalk, waiting on the rest of us to join them. Joe exited the SUV and turned, holding out his hand to me. He waited for me to scoot toward him and I looked over my shoulder to see Drew had closed his door behind him. I slid across the seat but hesitated at the open portal, glancing from the hand to the man offering it and back again before I took it. I let him help me from the vehicle with a little grace but it felt awkward and a bit staged. He held on to my hand a second longer than he needed to and I looked up at him in askance. I didn’t want to tug my hand away if he was going to continue to play the gentleman role but I was puzzled by his behavior. He smiled and raised my hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to the back before lowering it and releasing it. I blinked and considered him for a second then walked toward the hotel, butterflies flitting through my stomach. I bit my lip as I tried to sort through the emotions the simple show of affection had caused. He was being weird and I didn’t know how to response, uncertain if he were flirting or putting on a show. Hunter watched Joe try to romance his daughter and grinned, encouraged to see some progression in the relationship. The blossom of hope that his little girl might find love after all grew. This new interaction added to possibility the of my potential beau being someone from within the organization that had given Hunter so much. He felt a vibration in is pocket and withdrew his phone, answering it immediately. I’d already reached the doors when I heard Hunter swear with profuse proficiency in three languages and stopped, twisting to look behind me at my dad. He paced like a caged lion, rage building inside him that threatened to break free. He rubbed his pate and I knew something was terribly wrong as I watched his features twist in to a furious mask. I started toward him, not caring about the optics but he saw me and motioned for me to go inside. My worried mien earned a nod and I paused, tempted to be defiant but Joe stepped between us and put a hand on my shoulder. He turned me toward the doors and slid the hand down to cup my elbow, gently guiding me toward the entrance.

“It’s Stephanie. Trust me, you do not want to be out here while they talk. The hotel will have to repaint the portico when he’s finished with this conversation but for now that is the safest place for him to talk outside of a boardroom. He could have it in the SUV but I doubt he wants the driver to listen in or to waste that kind of gas.” Joe murmured as he walked us in to the lobby.

I didn’t have much choice but to go with him, the grip on my arm firm and my skirt preventing me from acting out. I was well aware of how fights between H and Stephanie could go, I’d been privy to them most of my life. If they were fighting this aggressively again it could bode ill for the company and potentially for my career. I tried to look over my shoulder again but sighed as Joe shifted to block my view. In his mind he was protecting me but this wasn’t a new vignette for me and it irked me that he was between my dad and I. He guided us to the elevators while the rest of the group ambled toward the bar, his hold on my arm firm but not painful as he steered me in to an open lift. I stepped in and felt the heat of his hand and the pressure of his grasp fade as he released my arm with a gentle shove that sent me to the far side of the car. I turned and looked up at him in confuse that quickly became anger as I watched him push the button for my floor and the door close button. I took a step toward him as the door slid shut and he saw the betrayal in my face. I knew what he’d done and why and I was furious that he’d dared treat me like a child again. I screamed at him through the closed doors and slapped at the metal surface, powerless to do anything for a minute save stomp my feet and pace the elevator until it reached my floor. The lift rose swiftly through the floors and I had a plan by the time the doors slid open on the landing for my level. I stormed down the hall with every intention of changing clothes and returning to the main floor. Once there I planned to find Joe and impart a piece of my mind to him, quite likely with some physical abuse to go along with it. The door to my room swung open with a loud bang and I stomped across the room, fingers working buttons and the zipper on my skirt as I shed clothes on my way to the bedroom. I exchanged the wine blouse and gray skirt for black shorts and a band t-shirt, the casual clothes comfortable and accommodating of most movements. My heels were kicked in different directions during my storm across the suite and I slid my feet in to flip-flops for my return to the lobby. I snagged my phone and key-card on my way to the door, shoving them in to opposite pockets. I whipped open the portal to find Hunter standing on the other side blocking my path, his hand raised to knock. I stopped and stepped back, rage evaporating like fog in the sun before a flood of worry swamped me but that quickly transitioned in to an oasis of relief. I was still furious with Joe but he was a secondary player at the moment, Hunter and his conversation with Stephanie were my primary concern. The brevity of the call and his appearance at my door told me it had been bad news, not a fight. I hugged him and waited for him to enter my room once I released him. He hugged me back and let me go so he could cross in to the suite and I closed the door. He strode to the couch and sat down heavily, the weight of Colossus seeming to be on his shoulders. I joined him on the couch and picked up his hand, holding it tightly. I feared the worst, all thoughts of Joe forgotten as I studied the angst in Hunter’s face. I knew prying was pointless, he had long ago taught me to talk when you were ready and not because someone demanded it. This allowed me to choose my words carefully rather than blurting out everything that was in my head and saved me many an argument over things said in haste. After a few minutes he rubbed his face with his free hand and sighed, a deeply troubled sound.

“I love you, no matter what we are going through. I want you to remember that. I love you.” He started with reassurances and I know that whatever Stephanie had called about did not bode well for the coming weekend.

“I know, Daddy, and whatever has happened or will happen we will get through it together, we always have.” I reminded him we were family and stood together through every storm.

“New Japan, Ring of Honor, and TNA are doing a massive cross-brand show in San Antonio this weekend. They are doing back to back shows tonight and tomorrow night. They will be leaving on Sunday.” He dropped a bomb in to my world and he heard my inhale, felt my hand tighten on his.

“That’s okay, they have their venue and we have ours. We won’t see them. They will be at a different hotel and even if we are in the same hotel they will be at their show when we get in and gone by the time we get up, so this isn’t an issue. I won’t have to see him.” I tried to give him a reasonable answer and hoped my logic wasn’t flawed.

“They are in the same hotel but a different venue. They booked all of this months ago and I have no idea what time they will be out of the hotel on Sunday. You know how wrestlers are about getting up the day after a big show. This was not planned, I promise. We announced our dates and locations for these shows at almost the same time, literally within hours of each other and they posted theirs first. It is entirely coincidental. They know about your situation and Billy has promised to keep him away from you as best they can.” He looked tired, an exhaustion settling over him that made my heart ache.

“I will be okay. I… I will stay near you and the guys until we get our rooms. Once I have my key I will go straight to my suite and I will only come out for you or the guys until they are gone. I will be fine if I do that. It is a simple solution. See, I will be fine!” I tried to put on a brave face as I presented a plan for the weekend, but he heard the panic in my voice.

“I know baby and the guys will take good care of you; I promise. You just have to trust them and stay with them at all times.” His tired smile gave me little relief as he pulled me in to his arms for a hug. 

I snuggled in to his chest, the mass somewhat reduced over the years but still broad enough to cuddle against. I held on to him, my anchor through years of struggles and months of pain. He knew I was scared and felt it was right for me to be frightened. He could feel the slight tremble of my limbs as the emotional maelstrom raged in my head and translated to the fine shaking of my body. To an outsider I appeared calm and in control, but it was a façade I’d learned from the best. The Levesque stoicism was infamous, and it was a bulwark we leaned on in a time of crisis. He kissed the top of my head and gently pushed me away. He studied my face for signs I would collapse but I smiled and he returned it, looking beyond the surface to the fear in my eyes. It hurt his heart that his baby girl was so tough yet so vulnerable and scared.

“You have tomorrow morning off so beside breakfast with me, what is your itinerary for the day?” He asked playfully, trying to distract my mind from the looming encounter with a potential threat.

“Laundry! I’m out of almost everything! I need clothes for the gym, ballet, gymnastics, and my regular daily wear is almost entirely dirty. I’m out of clothes for our evenings out as well. I still need to pack for our trip and I can’t do that until my clothes are done. My last fitting is at…” I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. “At nine so I may need some help getting my wash back to the room before they show up.” I widened my eyes and screwed up my features in to a pleading look like a puppy begging for a treat.

“Yes, baby girl, I will help you with your laundry.” He capitulated resignedly, the pouting puppy look doing him in as it always had.

“Thank you, Daddy! I think if I start early enough I can be finished with the washing by or close to nine. I know I can have the first load back by the time they arrive but I might need you to pull the second load out of the dryer. I will bring the delicates back and hang them up so you won’t have to worry about my leotards and tights.” I giggled, bouncing up and down on the seat like a little girl, watching him smile as I teased him.

“I can do that but you have to bring your bras back. I’m not carrying those up the hall!” He negotiated with me in a mock growl and held out his hand.

“Deal! Besides they are hanging up in the bathroom! I hand washed them before dinner! I will only have one in the wash and it is the one I just took off!” I grinned and shook his hand, agreeing to his pretend terms. 

He used the grip on my hand to pull me in to his chest and I hugged him. He held me tight, the silliness of the moment and the familial intimacy not lost on us. We took partook of it in the simplest, purest of forms, enjoying something we hadn’t shared in a while. I reveled in the moment, taking pleasure in having my dad to myself for the first time in a couple of years and he relished being close to me again. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having me at home, seeing and talking to me daily, and being my dad until we had been reunited. When I’d gone to university he’d taken a step back from our relationship and let me be Cailin O’Reilly, an orphan with a love for sports. I had used my birth name for all of my school, work and wrestling paperwork to create a name for myself independent of my adoptive father. I had learned over time that this had hurt him despite the legal requirements that bound us both and forced me to utilize this method to remain in the industry. Now he saw why I’d done it, establishing a history as Cailin O’Reilly that would stand up to both legal and social scrutiny and it was paying dividends. It still rankled him that I didn’t claim the Levesque or Helmsley names but for the moment it wasn’t an option and I was content to earn my way on my own merit. I still hadn’t addressed this issue with him before and now that the secret of my adoption by Undertaker was out I sensed I needed to tell him how I felt about our situation. I sat up, pulling away from him enough to look him in the eye as I cupped his cheek.

“I will always be your little girl. I might be listed as an O’Reilly but you are my dad and in my heart I will forever be a Levesque. It is just paperwork, it is just a story-line, and it cannot and does not change who I am. I am and always will be your girl.” I told him softly, love in my features as I smiled at him.

“I know, sweetheart, and I will always be your dad no matter what Vince or Stephanie try to do to separate us. I worry about you because you are my little girl. If I stop worrying you should start.” He hugged me again and I purred when he began to rub my back.

He chuckled and held me as long as I would allow him, something I would have been content to do until I fell asleep on his chest. He was my safe place, my anchor, and nothing could change that. Unfortunately, life could interrupt it. A buzz from his phone cut our hug short, a call telling us someone needed his attention. He pulled the device from his pocket and answered it when he saw the number on his screen. The tone of his voice and the way he tensed up underneath me hinted that Stephanie was on the line. I sighed and shook my head, reminded yet again of her uncanny ability to ruin a moment. The discussion rapidly became heated and I slipped from his lap to sit beside him, concern on my face as I watched him argue with his wife. Memories flooded my mind of the dozens of times I’d witnessed them arguing growing up. Their fights had been a routine part of my teens and early twenties, one I disliked immensely but I had no control over. Most of their disagreements had related to work and the way the family business was run, an aspect of our lives I had no say in. The only time I’d gotten involved in one of their disputes it had related to me. Stephanie had questioned my ability to balance work, school, my extra-curricular activities, and still wrestle on the indie circuit while maintaining my grades. I’d been seventeen and I had pointed out quietly that I was an honor roll student and on track to be accepted to no less than eight top tier schools with my preferred major. I’d added that all of the colleges and universities vying for my attention had offered me scholarships to play hockey for them. After that she’d stayed away from things related to me unless she wanted to wind Hunter up or receive a verbal thrashing from her under-aged stepdaughter. Now I waited for the call to end, the sounds of my childhood replaying in my living room as the conversation drug on. Eventually he ended the argument with a roll of his eyes and some terse words that made my eyebrow raise. He stood where he’d stopped pacing, the couch long abandoned for a series of laps walked across my floor, and I rose, ambling over to where he stood and hugged him.

“Go to bed, tomorrow is going to be a long day.” I told him, muffled by his chest and shirt.

“You are right, it is. You should get some sleep too. I will see you at breakfast. Let me know if you need me to watch your laundry.” He kissed my forehead and squeezed me one last time before departing.

I locked up behind him and spent a few minutes in the bathroom before heading to bed. I crawled between the sheets with the expectation I would sleep very little and be visited by the nightmares that had plagued me for the last few years. I laid down and closed my eyes, darkness rising swiftly to claim my consciousness. I slept deeply and peacefully without the specters of the past haunting my dreams, the fantasies that capered through my mind of passionate attentions from shadowed lovers and the aftermath that ensued.


	10. Yea Though I Walk Through the Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for a fitting! Cailin is finally getting her official ring gear! The chapter follows her day as she prepares for her first pay-per-view and the stresses that come with it. Joe and Hunter feature heavily in this chapter as relationships change and are explained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this has been so delayed. RL has cut into my writing time. This is the continuation of the previous chapter and the second of what will probably be a four-chapter breakdown of the pay-per-view weekend. I will try to get the rest of the chapters done over the next few days since I know I owe you all a few chapters after having taken the last three weeks off. Be warned, the next chapter will be Ugly and Violent so please steel your nerves and if you are easily triggered consider skipping it. Thanks!!

My alarm sang at the usual time, rousing me from a particularly vivid dream. I stumbled around the room in a tired fog, attempting to round up my wayward clothing. I'd neglected my room the last few days, and my wardrobe spread across the floor. The dirty clothing went in the bag, and I carried it to the living room and set it by the door. I planned to start the two loads after breakfast if the machines were open and hoped that the wash would be dry before my fitting began. A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I slid my feet into my flip-flops and padded to the elevator. Hunter met me on the main floor, and we strolled into the restaurant for breakfast, sitting across from each other. I glanced at his visage and noted that exhaustion draped him like a heavy cloak, and I suspected he'd gotten little if any sleep. The lines of his face and the dark circles under his eyes aged him and gave him a worn appearance that verged on haggard. For the first time in my life, I realized my dad was getting older, and my heart ached as I saw the toll the stress of our lives took on him. The demands of the company and the family drama were killing him by feet rather than inches, and I wondered how long he could continue down this path before it impacted his physical and mental health.

"I'm fine, just a little tired. I saw the doctor two weeks ago. He gave me a clean bill of health, said I was in better condition than most of his patients my age. My brain and heart are fine, my liver and kidneys are working perfectly, and other than a touch of high blood pressure and slightly elevated cholesterol I'm healthy and liable to live to one hundred barring any unforeseen circumstances." He growled at me, the concern in my face and body language giving away my thoughts

"Okay, if he says you are fine I won't argue with you. I want you around as long as possible. I need someone to walk me down the aisle one of these days." I teased him playfully, and he glared at me, snarling at the inference.

"Don't start that nonsense. You know you aren't allowed to be married until you are thirty-five." He retorted gruffly, the lines in his face easing as he smiled.

"Daddy if I'm thirty-five when I get married you aren't getting grandchildren from me. I'm not going to be sixty-eight and watching my youngest graduate high school." I scowled at him, playing along with the verbal game of wits we'd had going for the last two years, and he laughed.

"I know, honey, but I'm not ready to let some other man steal you from me. I barely get to see you anymore, and I don't want to share. I'm not ready to let you go." His sad smile sucked some of the mirth from the game.

"You aren't letting me go. I will always be your little girl." I reminded him gently, "Besides it isn't stealing if he has your blessing. Look at the bright side! You would be getting something you don't have, a son!" I punctuated my words with a wave of my fork as I argued with him.

"Why would I want a son? I work with guys all day long, and none of them compare to you! I'm not sure there is a man out there I would consider good enough to be my son, and there certainly isn't one worthy of your hand or my blessing!" He retorted with a smirk as my jaw dropped at his clever maneuvering.

"That's not fair!" I pouted in protest, not seeing a way around the stopgap he'd created.

"I know! It means you aren't getting married! You are mine forever!" He crowed, thinking he'd backed me into a corner.

"Oh, no! No, that is not how we are going to play this. If you won't bless my marriage to a good man when I bring one home, I will find the worst guy in your stable and I will elope with him! I hear Vegas is great for weddings!" I replied with a mischievous grin, harkening back to his original wedding with Stephanie and the way Vince had reacted to their union.

"Somehow I doubt you would do that. You love me too much to hurt me like that. I also know that you don't trust anyone enough to pull it off!" He chuckled, playing the one card I couldn't counter, and I flopped back in my seat pouting again.  
"Damn it!" I knew I'd lost this round.

"Eat your breakfast. They are going to be here shortly. And if you are that keen to get married, we have a trip to Saudi coming up. I'm sure I could find a nice prince to arrange a wedding with!" I gaped at him as he paid me back for my earlier digs with one of his own.

"Daddy, that is not funny." I snarled at him, and he laughed and pointed at my plate.

We were finishing our meal when Colby and Drew walked in. They appeared sleepy and a bit rough for wear, some of which had been my fault. I saw Colby sporting a few marks I recognized as hints of something more amorous and flushed. I heard Hunter chuckle and peeked at him, his smirk at my discomfort telling. He nudged my foot and motioned with a nod toward the door, reminding me I had things to do. I smiled at Colby and Drew and patted Drew on the shoulder as we traded places. The men joined Hunter while he finished his coffee, and I headed upstairs to do my laundry. I washed everything and moved both loads to the dryers, the handful of delicates hung in my bathroom to dry. I returned to the laundry room to wait on the loads to finish and sat watching a film of the Riott Squad. I was in the midst of a video when a chirp on my phone interrupted my viewing. Hunter messaged me that the team had arrived for the fitting. He told me he'd given them access to my room and asked if I needed anything. I replied with a request for help with my laundry, confessing the dryer cycle had a few minutes left on it. I stood up and strode from the room, ambling down the hall toward my suite. He passed me in the hall and made a longsuffering face that made me giggle. I gave him a singsong, "Thank you!" and kept walking. 

I swiped my keycard and found my room occupied by a half dozen people and several sewing machines of various types. I had a half-second to realize they had turned my hotel room into a sewing room before someone snatched my hand, and I found myself propelled through the room. The lady in charge, an older woman with hair dyed a bizarre shade of brown courtesy of a bottle, glasses, and a thick frame marched me to a platform someone had set up in the middle of the room. I stood still while they took a fresh set of measurements, and the woman clucked about changes and making adjustments to my gear. I knew I hadn't gained weight or girth anywhere so I couldn't explain what had shifted from the week before to the present. She pinched and poked and prodded at my arms and legs, scowling at me like I was something offensive then sighed and threw up her hands. She ordered me to strip, and I shed my clothes. When I was naked, she handed me a bodysuit to which my corset had been sewn, and I carefully stepped into the mesh suit. I stood still while they made sure everything sat where they wanted without tightening the ribbons to pull the corset snug. I waited patiently while they pushed, prodded, poked, and fluffed my body to within an inch of my life, the occasional prick earning them a startled jerk. I considered snarling at them, but I refrained, desiring the best possible outcome and if I were kind I knew they would make me look spectacular. The initial inspection earned a nod of approval, and the lead seamstress raised an eyebrow at me. I pointed out a few places the boning poked me uncomfortably and asked that they move it to permit me to work in it if you please. They marked the changes in chalk, and I removed the suit. Someone handed me a robe to wear while the boning was relocated, and I observed in fascination as the corset came apart and was rebuilt before my eyes. I looked away when someone touched my arm, a short, Asian woman tapping my shoulder to get my attention. She held out a pair of shorts for me to try on, and I nodded. I dropped the rope and pulled on the shorts, turning this way and that while she and another young lady marked the adjustments they would need to make on the material. I’d picked up almost an inch in my thighs, and I groaned. Working out with the men was starting to have unintended gains and not in ways I appreciated. I sighed and tried to hold still, letting them move the material, fold and drape it suited them. They were muttering about adding another panel to the side that they could take in and out as needed. I marveled at the difficulty making a pair of faux leather pants seemed to be, but it seemed to challenge these women. I squeaked when someone poked my ass with a pin and gave them a dirty look, but otherwise, I tried to be a model client while they worked.

I dressed and undressed six or seven times before the seamstresses seemed content. Every time I stepped into the bodysuit, they checked the fit without cinching the corset, and I questioned the way it would wear when snugged to my frame. It felt like a waste of time for them to adjust the garment without tightening it to my body as I had no intention of wearing it loose to the ring. I wanted to say something about tightening it, express my frustration about how they were handling the fitting and opened my mouth to do so when someone knocked on the door. I checked my watch and blinked, not realizing how much time had passed. It had been two hours since the fitting had begun and I had expected Hunter to return with my laundry ninety minutes ago. Hands and pins prevented me from greeting my guest, so one of the ladies hopped up from her sewing machine and opened the door. I adjusted my bodysuit again and sighed, agonizing over the final fit. I stood with my back to the door, the flesh tone leotard covering my body, and at first glance, it appeared that the untied corset was all I wore. I heard the door shut and waited for Hunter to talk to me as he walked through to my bedroom, taking advantage of my status as a captive audience while I stood on the platform and allowed the team to poke and prod me for the umpteenth time.

Instead of Hunter’s typical banter, a nervous silence filled the air, the hum of the sewing machines and a serger the only break in the quiet. After a minute, I peeked over my shoulder and saw Colby, Nick, Drew, and Joe standing by the door taking in the flurry of work underway while attempting to avoid looking in my direction. Joe’s eyes were on my back when I glanced their way, and I noted he liked what he saw. Drew was indifferent to the situation, dropping down into the armchair to wait on the others. Nick watched with a grin, his experience with fittings telling him we were at the halfway point of the session. Colby kept peeking at the outfit, and I giggled when I realized he hadn’t figured out it was a bodysuit. I reached down and moved the elastic when it rode a little too high on my ass cheek, releasing it with a snap. I saw him redden under his beard and smirked as the dawning notion I wasn’t mostly naked took hold in his head. 

“Miss, we need to finish this. Please hold still.” I snapped back to center as the head seamstress requested my attention.

“Yes, of course, my apologies.” I tried to apologize, but it came out stilted, and Joe could hear my frustration, the tone similar to the one I used when he tested my patience during practice.

“Hey, Cailin, do you know where Hunter is? We went by his room, but he’s not there, and he left the dining room a while ago.” Joe asked, and I saw heads pop up as the seamstresses looked at the gorgeous dark-haired man with the deep velvety voice.

“He’s in the laundry room, keeping an eye on my clothes,” I replied casually as though this were perfectly normal, which for me it was.

“You have our boss doing your laundry?!” Nick asked, stunned.

A knock sounded at the door, and the three men hovering around the entrance were forced to move further into the room. Colby opened the portal to reveal the answer to Nick’s question, as though speaking, it had given it life. My dad strode across the room with a basket full of clothes, all neatly folded and separated, and he disappeared into the bedroom without a word. I peeked over my shoulder to see four gaping men, and I giggled at their reactions. It wasn’t the first time Hunter had been on laundry duty for me, but they had never seen him help me before. H returned a little while later, and I knew he had put everything away and done a room inspection while he’d been in the bedroom. He had learned early on in our unconventional relationship that my room was a reflection of my mental state. Typically, it was neat to the point of meticulous, and he often joked it could be photographed for home magazines or used as a movie set. Hunter could judge my stress levels by how messy my room had gotten, the dirtier the room, the more unsettled my mental and emotional states. Today it was neat but not spotless, and H gave me an inquisitive look, silently asking if I were alright as he returned from my bedroom. He leaned against the wall by the bathroom door to watch the ladies fit my corset around my best without cinching it properly and waited for an answer. What he got was not my typical behavior.

“Oh, for the love of God! You all build corsets and ring gear for a living! You would think the proper way to fit it would be to cinch it first! Joe, get over here and tie me into this thing so they can fix it, please!” I ran out of patience and Hunter chuckled as I snapped, the fiery streak I kept tamed coming out.

The women in front of me gawked, startled, and distraught their client had instructed them how to perform their job. I felt a little guilty for snapping at them, but I was tired of being poked with pins and frustrated that they hadn’t tightened the corset to my frame. The ladies stepped back to make room for the man I’d ordered to tie my corset, and I tried not to tap my foot impatiently. I knew the garment fit but not how well, and they were wasting time making adjustments that would be redone once it was cinched to ring readiness. Joe rose from his seat on the couch and started toward me but paused, glancing at Hunter for permission before he touched me. Hunter inclined his head toward where I stood, telling Joe without words to tie the corset. He grinned at the hesitation, realizing Joe had taken their chat to heart. Joe wove through the room to stand behind me, and I felt his finger grasp the ribbons that laced up the back of the corset. He pulled the strands snug with a series of manipulations and tugs, peeking over my shoulder at my dad periodically to make sure Hunter wasn’t angry. He stopped tugging on the ribbons when he thought it was tight enough and I glared at him over my shoulder, wanting it to fit correctly, not comfortably. He gave me a mock apologetic look and worked the remaining slack out of the ribbons, snugging it firmly against my body. I took a breath once he’d tied the ribbons into bows and felt the stays give a little.

“Much better! Thank you!” I smiled at him over my shoulder, dismissing him. I turned my attention to the lady in charge, “Now, make sure the boning is in the proper places, the edges will keep me in, and nothing important is showing.”

H chuckled as the woman flushed and started her checks anew. It took a few minutes to inspect where every strip of boning sat but eventually she nodded and held out her hand to me. I placed my palm in hers and stepped down from the platform to test out the garment as was customary. I walked over to Hunter and turned, motioning for people to give me space. Everyone shifted as far as they could toward the edges of limited space, and a narrow aisle formed. Most female wrestlers tested new gear by walking, jumping, and kicking in it, occasionally doing a flip or a split as was their preference. I wasn’t most women, and I tested my gear the same way I tested my body. I took two steps and put myself through a series of cartwheels, round offs, and a flip to land by the door. I returned the way I’d come, reversing the cartwheels, doing back walkovers, and a backflip to check the give of the stays. I stopped beside Hunter and gave him a questioning look. He shook his head, confirming he hadn’t seen anything he shouldn’t, and I grinned.

“Perfect. The shorts please.” I held out my hand, and someone handed me the shorts.

Everyone watched as I pulled on the short black faux leather bottoms despite the limitations of the corset and closed the button and zipper. I held out my hand, and H took it, steadying me as I put the shorts through flawless splits in two directions. I tested the material and constructions as well as their mobility while I stretched and twisted in the gear. The whole outfit held together and fit comfortably, and I nodded, approving. Hunter chuckled as he observed the room and the reactions of those in it. The people building my gear appeared horrified as I put their work to the test in ways they hadn’t anticipated despite my warnings in our initial consultation. They hadn’t believed me when I said I was not their traditional client, and my method of testing the gear proved it. Their reactions were the opposite of the men who now resided on the couch and in the armchair. Each one showed some level of appreciation and desire as they watched me move, the clothing and frame of the woman enticing them on a baser level. I stood up and motioned for the boots, holding tight to Hunter’s hand as one of the seamstresses helped me step into the soft-soled shoes. They had no heels so I could do the majority of my stunts sans modifications and my knee pads were built into the leather that covered my legs almost to my shorts. I bounced on them a few times and slid them along the carpet to test how they moved and felt on my legs. The outfit was heavenly, the fabric contoured to my body like a glove, and I was ecstatic with the overall aesthetic. 

“What do you think?” I asked H, wanting my dad’s approval.

“You look great! It is definitely your style! I think Taker will be pleased and you are going to make him proud.” Hunter assured me the outfit suited me and wore well while confirming what the men suspected.

“That is a good look for you! The corset definitely suits you! You look amazing!” Joe echoed what H had said, and I glanced back at the men in the living room, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

The others seconded the previously offered opinions, and I smiled, delighted by their approval. I turned to the head seamstress and hoped that we were finished, but she held up a large box, and I sighed. Judging by the size of the container, I suspected it was my duster, and I knew I needed to try it on. I motioned to the bedroom, wanting to keep that part of my costume a surprise from everyone, and we disappeared behind the closed door. The second the door shut Joe smacked himself in the head, muttering about his lack of vocabulary, which made everyone chuckle at his expense. Inside, she put the box on my bed and opened the tissue paper to reveal the contents. She lifted the items within gently and set them on the bedspread for my perusal. The hat appeared first, and I scowled, not wanting the traditional headpiece. I thought it ruined the silhouette and hoped they wouldn’t make me wear it passed the initial match. I picked it up and saw that it built to the size of my head. I put it on and glared at myself in the mirrored doors of the closet. I’d never particularly cared for hats aside from my hockey helmet and rarely wore them except on the rare occasion when I spent several hours outdoors. Feeling I had met my professional obligations, I took the hat off and set it on the bed. The seamstress chuckled as she watched me try on the hat with distaste and how I handled the headpiece. She reached into the box and withdrew my duster, the yards of black leather, giving the room a pleasant scent. She held it up and shook it out, showing me the front first, and I grinned. 

The coat would fall from my shoulders to my ankles and hide everything underneath, even while open. The front was a mirror of the Undertaker’s traditional duster, flat layers of leather sewn together to the height of the wearer with a collar and sleeves cut to the length of the owner’s arms. I nodded and smiled; content they had captured the look we had been aiming to achieve with this duster. I assumed the back would be identical to the front sans collar, but I was wrong. She turned the coat carefully, and I nearly shrieked with joy. They'd built a support structure into the posterior of the coat to brace the large set of black wings that rose from the shoulders. I danced in place as she showed me the delicate black feathers and made the wings open and close by manipulating the supports inside the shoulders. She helped me shrug into the straps for the wings then the sleeves and taught me how to move my shoulders to move the large feathered appendages. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the coat, twisting and turning to see it at all angles. I stood to the side and moved my shoulders, giggling as the wings opened and closed, creating a small puff of air. The wings outlined my frame and were tall enough that if Hunter or Joe stood in front of me, they would be crowned by the curl of feathers. The black plumage made for an impressively imposing appearance, and I grinned, struggling to contain the squeals of glee as I stared at myself. It draped my tall, lithe frame perfectly and somehow, despite enveloping my figure, it still gave me an air of sexiness that I loved. I preened until someone knocked on the door, and I darted across the entryway. I hid beside the wall, just out of sight of anyone in the doorway. The seamstress laughed and opened the door while I waited to see my guest and I sighed in relief as the portal closed and Hunter stepped into the room. I popped out and grinned at him, pirouetting slowly to allow him time to absorb the different facets of the design, and I heard him laugh.

“Look!! I have wings!!” I squealed in delight, and he laughed hard. “And they move!!”

“I see! I take it that you like the coat?” He managed to stop guffawing long enough to inquire, hoping it had met my expectations, his face a deep red from laughing while he watched the wing flutter back and forth.

“Like it?! I LOVE it!!” I bounced up and down mimicking a teenage girl meeting her celebrity crush, causing the feathers to ruffle with the impact of my feet on the floor.

He roared with laughter again and shook his head, amused at my excitement over an accessory to my ring gear. “You will get it back tomorrow night before your match. They have to finish hemming it and putting any accents or bling you want on it.”

I froze, eyes wide, then turned with delighted anticipation to the lady who waited patiently for me to stop moving, “I um, I get to pick my accents? I thought you all just decorated it?”

“Yes, ma’am you get to pick, and no, all decorative choices fall to the client. I would have mentioned this but you um, you were preoccupied.” She nodded, confirming Hunter’s statement and I squealed again.

“Purple!! I need purple accents on the corset and in the wings!! Please!! Oh, and could you put a Claddagh on the corset and coat? Maybe embroider it but if that won’t work rhinestones are fine. Or um, wait, what is our graphic going to look like? Could you embroider that instead? That’s okay, isn’t it? I don’t want to cross a line or have the wrong image. I would do red, but the Riott Squad is wearing red and pink. No one else is doing black and purple, so that’s okay right?” I went from confident in my decision to questioning if I was asking too much or the wrong thing in ninety seconds.

“Calm down, you are fine. You can have purple, that is perfect, and it suits you. Your new graphic will be the moon in three phases, waxing, full, and waning. You can certainly have it embroidered on any of your gear, and we were thinking of setting it up as part of your logo on your merchandise. Now, what shade of purple darling, there are quite a few of them.” Hunter chuckled and reined me in, amused at my exuberance but a little disturbed by my sudden uncertainty.

“Lilac or lavender!! Either one would be light enough to glow in the blacklights and still be pretty, soft, and feminine!” I made up my mind quickly, feeling more confident thanks to Hunter’s encouragement.

“Yes, ma’am, we can do that. Lilac around the boning, in the embroidery, and the wings. I’m guessing you want the graphic sewn over your heart on both the coat and corset?” She clarified the details, checking the hem of the coat as I stood still while we discussed the accents for the outfit.

“That would be perfect! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” I hugged her once she’d stood up, excited for my new gear, and let her go to hug Hunter.

They laughed, and he squeezed me for a second before letting me go, “You need to take the duster off and let her pack it up so they can finish it for you. She also needs to check your outfit once more, since you've worn it for a little while and things have shifted.”

“Yes, sir.” I reluctantly shed the coat, missing its weight as soon as it left my shoulders.

I handed it to the seamstress carefully, not wanting to damage the duster before I had a chance to wear it to the ring. While she packed the coat in tissue paper, I walked back into the living room, Hunter following behind me. I peeked at the guys and realized that was a mistake. Their attention focused on each other and the television program they were watching about the latest sports news and scores from around the country. It was evident they were attempting to pretend they hadn’t heard my joyous squeals coming from the bedroom, but their stifled smirks and laughs weren’t covered well. Hunter resumed his post leaning against the wall by the bathroom door to watch the seamstresses swarm my frame once I stepped on the platform, poking, pinning, and marking every detail that needed changing and the placement of the accents I wanted. They suggested embroidering the pockets of my shorts, but the idea fell by the wayside when I scowled and shook my head, refusing any kind of bling or color on my bottoms. When they were content they had everything they needed, they took pictures and began to pack up, the head seamstress motioning for me to remove the gear.

“Joe, would you be a dear and untie my laces, please?” I asked in a charming tone, giving him a smiling beguilingly over my shoulder.

Hunter smirked as I asked my coworker to release my stays. Joe stood up from his seat on the couch and crossed to where I stood, dodging the seamstresses as they puttered about packing up. His hands along my sides sent butterflies through my stomach, and I fought to keep my breathing even as my heart beat faster, certain he could hear it pounding in my chest. I peeked at Hunter and saw the smirk that curled his lips, the pleased expression hinting that he knew the effect Joe had on my body and mind. Joe stood behind me, close enough I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and his fingers worked the laces, tugging and pulling the ribbons through the rivets to loosen the stays. I put a hand on the front of the corset to keep it snug against my belly until he finished manipulating the ties to a point I could slide the bodysuit off. He tugged the laces until the knots at the end met the rivets, and the corset could slide over my hips easily. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against my back, his hands on my sides, and I felt his breath against the side of my neck as he murmured words in my ear.

“Come to lunch with me. I want to spend some time with you alone.” The tone was gentle, but the words were demanding as he asked me out.

I glanced at H, and he gave me a slight nod, “Okay.”

He lifted his hands from flanks and retreated to his seat beside Colby, settling into a discussion about the current sports play on the television. He kept peeking in my direction during their chat and Hunter struggled not to grin, the thinly veiled desire in Joe’s features encouraging him after their conversation the day before. I stepped down from the platform and padded into the bedroom, shutting the door for some privacy while I changed. I leaned against the heavy wooden slab for a minute and willed myself to calm down. It had been an age since someone had been able to affect me this way, and his attentions unsettled me. After a few minutes, I sat down on the bed and shed the boots, shorts, and bodysuit in steady succession. As I peeled off each piece of clothing, I went through my breathing exercises to further calm my racing heart while I changed clothes. I pulled on the shorts and t-shirt I had worn before the fitting began and padded into the living room carrying the neatly folded ring gear in one hand, the boots in the other. The head seamstress took each piece as I handed them to her and checked each one to ensure the markings had not been disturbed while I had undressed. When she had confirmed nothing had been smudged or erased she folded and placed each item in the box it had arrived in. The team of seamstresses put the room to rights over the next few minutes then vacated the space. I stayed near Hunter until the whirlwind of their departure calmed, my attention on the ladies as they were leaving. A pregnant silence filled the room, replacing the chatter and the hum of machines, and I glanced around uneasily. The guys were looking at Hunter, and I and I found the floor quite interesting, their attention discomfiting me.

“I believe Nick, Drew, and I have a tee time in thirty minutes.” Hunter chirped, pushing away from the wall to stroll toward the door.

“Yes, sir, we do! And I believe you will be buying the beer before the day is out!” Nick agreed, laughing as he and Drew stood up to follow Hunter out.

“Well if we are going to make our appointment we need to get going. I want to spend a few minutes warming up on the driving range before we start making bets!” Hunter grinned as he held the door for them.

“Have fun! Keep an eye on him, boys! He cheats!” I teased as they walked out.

Drew and Nick waved in acknowledgment while H sent a dirty look my way. I laughed and stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed and shook his head at me then walked out, the door closing with a ‘thunk’ behind them. I looked over at Colby and Joe as I padded to the table and pulled out a chair, sitting with a sigh of relief. It was quiet for a few minutes, and I let my attention drift. I jumped when Colby broke the silence.

“I’m going to head to the gym for a bit. Would you all like to come with me?” Colby’s invitation startled me out of my thoughts.

“Thanks, Colby, but I haven’t packed yet, and I need lunch. I’m a little behind thanks to that fitting.” I apologetically refused, smiling sadly.

“Oh, um, okay. I didn’t realize you hadn’t done that yet. I guess I should have since Hunter just brought your laundry back. Joe, you up for a lift?” He chuckled as the logic of my refusal kicked in, and he turned to his friend hopefully.

“Sorry, bruh, I can’t. I have a lunch date today. I’m trying to get back in the game since I guess it’s time. Anyway, I will see you at dinner.” Joe turned him down with a grin.

Colby stood up nodding, “Okay, well, good luck with the date! It will be good for you! You two enjoy your afternoon! See you at dinner!”

We said goodbye, and he walked out, the door closing behind him. I almost felt guilty for omitting the fact that I was going to lunch with Joe, but he hadn’t mentioned it to his best friend either. I shifted nervously, not comfortable with being alone with Joe or any of the other guys on the team despite the number of weeks we had worked together. After a few minutes of deliberately ignoring each other and our lack of a chaperon, I stopped staring a hole in the floor and tried to make conversation.

“Um, I uh, I guess I should change, unless um, we are going to um, to do a picnic in the park? Um, what should I uh, what kind of clothes should I wear?” I asked hesitantly.

“A nice pair of pants and a blouse and maybe a pair of wedge shoes should be fine.” He replied, the clothing he suggested telling me lunch was a more casual affair.

I stood up and padded into the bedroom, pushing the door closed with my foot. He had sat forward on the couch to watch me walk to the bedroom and hoped I would leave the door cracked or more, curious about what lay beneath the clothes. The closing door cut off his view, and he sat back, disappointed. I stopped in front of the closet and opened the folding mirrored door, perusing the offerings inside. I plucked a skirt of buttery soft brown deer leather, an olive blouse, and a pair of wedge heels from the closet and set them on the bed. I considered the outfit for a minute and wondered if it was a little too formal for the restaurant he was taking me to but decided I liked the choices. I exchanged my shorts and t-shirt for the blouse and skirt, tucking the top into the waist of my bottom. I picked up the shoes from the bed and a clutch from the dresser and carried them with me as I walked from the bedroom to the bathroom. I spent a few minutes plaiting my hair and applying makeup to compliment my outfit, the final preparations for my date taking longer than dressing had. I exited the bathroom and crossed to where my gym bag sat beside the entertainment center and allowed myself to fondue, or melt, into a squat with closed knees. I leaned against the cabinet that housed the extra blanket and sheet for the pullout bed and pulled my wallet from the bag. I added the wallet to my clutch along with my keycard and phone and straightened gracefully without flashing anyone the wine-colored lace I wore under my skirt. I stepped into my shoes and double-checked the contents of my clutch.

“Okay, I think I am ready to go.” I smiled at Joe as I straightened

He watched as I packed my purse with necessities, and I glanced over to catch him peeking at my legs and the hem of my skirt. The smile shifted into a disapproving frown, and he laughed when he realized I’d seen his curious peek at my skirt. It was the second time he’d attempted to look up my bottoms, and it struck me as immature behavior. I considered throwing my bag at his head and stomping to my room in a fit of pique. I reconsidered after a minute, knowing that if he wasn’t a perfect gentleman during lunch, I could tell Hunter and my dad would powerbomb Joe through a table as retribution. I opened the door and exited the suite, leaving him on the couch. He quickly pointed the remote at the TV and shut it off, scrambling from the sofa to follow me out. He pulled the door shut behind him and caught up with me in a handful of strides, his hand settling lightly on my low back as we strolled to the elevators. The tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife, and our nerves were drawn taut by the prospect of being alone with the other. The elevator arrived with a ding, and he led us into the lift. We stood on opposite sides of the car, and he watched as I stared a hole through the floor, wondering how to break the silence. He had gotten so used to the cheerfully boisterous ‘Morgan’ half of my personality that the shyly quiet Cailin puzzled him. He worried that perhaps this hadn’t been the best idea and questioned if he could handle a woman this delicate. He had no way of knowing how nervous and insecure I felt being alone with him or of the butterflies that filled my belly as I thought about all the different ways this could end. He chuckled when the ding of the elevator made me jump, my mind snapping back to the present as the doors slid open and he turned toward the entry. I straightened and walked out of the car with him, glancing around for any sign of my other coworkers. I felt his hand settle on the curve of my spine, the large paw spanning the whole of my lower back from flank to flank as it warmed the skin through my blouse. We strolled casually through the lobby giving off the air that we were completely comfortable with each other, and I breathed a sigh of relief when we exited. That relief dissipated in the muggy heat of the early afternoon, the sunshine making everything sparkle and shimmer while threatening to bake everything left outdoors too long.

We walked through the parking lot, the hand on my back subtly guiding me to his personal car rather than a company vehicle. When I saw his vehicle, I paused, torn between dismay and excitement, and my nerves jangled a little harder. He drove a low slung Bugatti Chiron in black and chrome, and I nearly squealed with joy. I bit my lip to contain the elation but also to cover my concern for how I would get in and out of it without giving the entire parking lot the Basic Instincts view. I’d seen pictures, watched shows, and read magazine articles about this beautiful piece of mechanical artistry, but I’d never thought I would see one up close. It was the closest thing an average person could get to a race car straight from the assembly line, and I’d been silently drooling over them for months. He held the door for me, and I slid cautiously into the seat, knowing there was an art form to getting into a low riding vehicle while wearing a skirt and heels that did not involve showing your underwear. Once I had settled in I reached out to trail my fingers lightly over the material covering the dash, smelling the scent of genuine leather, and sighed, lovingly caressing the details of the interior with jealous desire. I hadn’t noticed him slide into the vehicle or his amused expression as he watched me. He observed the way I took in every aspect of the interior, noted the way I touched it reverently and chuckled. The flush of my cheeks only added to the images in his mind of my fingers trailing over his body with that kind of affection and care for detail, and he pushed those thoughts away before they gave him trouble.

“I take it you like the car?” He joked and pushed the starter button.

I pulled on my seatbelt and nodded, “It is automotive perfection. The blend of Ferrari’s speed and handling with the luxury and craftsmanship of a Rolls-Royce. The speed of a cheetah with the beauty of a peacock.” My dreamy voice and smile showed my pleasure at this unexpected treat, and I reveled in every second I spent in the vehicle.

“You…” He seemed shocked, “You know how fast this car goes?” He appeared torn between shocked and impressed.

“Zero to sixty in two point five seconds, and it maxes out at two hundred and ten miles per hour thanks to the quad-turbo. It has a sixteen cylinder engine and double air intakes to cool the engine and the ceramic brakes. You literally cannot get any closer to a race car off the showroom floor then this and even then it’s a custom order.” I replied with a cheeky grin, taking my eyes off the console for a second to peek at him.

“Okay, the lady knows the car but…” Awe in his voice echoed his expression, and I sensed he wanted to challenge me.

“Oh, darling, I know cars. I know almost as much about cars as I do the human body. I know more about wrestling than cars or people, but eh, that’s semantics.” I smirked, proving it as we exited the parking lot by pointing to and rattling off the statistical data for every car we passed no matter how low, middle, or high end they were. I was even able to guess at some of the modifications the owners had made to a few of the vehicles we passed base on the sounds they made or aesthetic hints.

He pulled in to the street as I finished, an impressed whistle coming from his lips, “How do you know so much about cars? That is not a topic most women find interesting.”

“Okay, slightly sexist there big guy, not all women find cars boring. And to answer your question, I was raised around it. My dad is a gearhead, and some of my friends in high school and college were big into cars. I like the mechanics of it, I can relate it to the human body. They both have heart, muscle, fluids, and a brain of sorts, at least in the newer models. It just makes sense to me.” I replied, one hand gripping the seat, the other holding on to the armrest on the door as he showed me the speed of his pride and joy.

He eased into traffic and guided the vehicle toward the highway. I struggled to control my features as he accelerated on to the interstate and the purr of the car vibrated through my body, causing things low in my belly to awaken. I deliberately found things outside my window to look at, trying to ignore my body’s reaction to the accelerations and decelerations. I heard him chuckle and glanced at him, but he was checking traffic, a knowing smirk quirking his mouth. I felt my cheeks warm and knew they had darkened, the awareness that he knew I’d been aroused by the vehicle embarrassing me and the pink deepened when he caught me looking and grinned.

“It is a unique piece of craftsmanship.” He chuckled, picking up my hand and kissing the back of it, leaving me to wonder if he meant the car or my body.

I pondered the question as he drove, my attention adrift on the waves of possibilities while my gaze took in the sights. We weren’t on the interstate long, crossing town to slide off an exit on the outer bay side of the city. I watched the boats on the water as he navigated to a small restaurant with a beautiful view of the marina nearby. He pulled in and found a place to park alongside the building. He climbed from the car slowly, his joints popping and groaning as they released, and I giggled as he straightened with a stretch. Tall men in low cars looked sexy but getting in and out of the vehicles did not agree with their bodies well. He shut his door and walked around the vehicle to help me from my seat. I tracked his movements through the windshield, a gazelle watching a lion approach, and my stomach felt like a butterfly sanctuary by the time he opened my door and offered me his hand. I placed my hand in his, staring momentarily as his larger paw enveloped mine. The heat of his skin sank into mine, and my body became aware of his in a new way. I swung my legs out and ducked my head to avoid hitting the door frame, standing up and giving him a tantalizing view of my cleavage as I rose. I didn’t mind showing him the curve of my breasts; he saw that all the time, and it seemed a small price to pay to avoid flashing the entire parking lot. I rose from the low slung seat gracefully and grudgingly admitted the charm school lessons had put me through had paid off in the long run. 

He closed the car door behind me, and we started toward the restaurant, hands clasped, and I tried not to smile as he let our arms swing with each step. It showed a comfort level I wasn’t sure we actually felt, and it struck me as silly, but the small gesture was a first step. I appreciated his attempt to make me comfortable and the hint that he was willing to take his time and approach things gradually. He held the door to the restaurant for me, our hands slipping free of each other as I ducked past him into the crowded entrance, and his hand settled on my low back to guild me to the hostess stand. We wove through the collection of patrons expertly and approached the desk where a cheerful college-aged woman with brown hair and a big smile greeted us. I tried to ignore her as she ogled him under her lashes while looking up the reservation he’d made, turning my attention to the décor. The wood and metal accents were warm, and the shades of wine and gold made it feel inviting. I felt a small push on my spine and realized she’d found our reservation, and we led to our table. I blinked and followed the swaying blonde that held our menus as she led us to our table, her voice barely discernable above the din as she talked about the specials for the day. Joe’s attention was on my face, and he noted I seemed unimpressed by the efforts he’d made. He felt disappointed and annoyed by my apparent apathy. He didn’t realize this was normal to me or that I could mention my father’s name and get a table at any restaurant in any city in the US even if others had been waiting an hour or more. I had grown up amongst clout, and though I rarely used it, I had that power at my fingertips. The blonde stopped by a table near the windows with a view of the water, and I smiled, delighted. Boats filled the marina, and from where we sat, we could watch them coming and going as people traveled the bay and the Gulf of Mexico. We were so close to the water I could smell the salt in the air despite the filters in the restaurant's heating and cooling system, and I wondered how fresh the fish was. 

The waiter appeared and offered to take our orders, answering all of our questions before we asked for anything. The fish was snapper fresh caught that morning and cooked to order, everything was prepared to specification, and we were assured it was all organic. The waiter patiently took our orders and made certain he’d written it down correctly before disappearing to get our drinks and send the appetizer Joe had ordered and our meal requests to the kitchen. I returned my attention to the windows, watching the boats navigate the busy bay, the movement on the water like a marine ballet. I heard the music in my mind as I observed the movements shifts of the water and boats and people, it was simple yet elegant and graceful in its own way, and I appreciated it. I would have continued to stare, fascinated, but his hand on mine drew me back to my date, and I smiled shyly.

“It is beautiful out there. I haven’t been sailing in a while.” I explained, waving my free hand at the window while remembering the last time Hunter had taken me out on the water.

“It is. I get out there when I can, but it isn’t often enough.” He lamented with a sigh, glancing out at the water for a minute.

“Yeah, our work schedule is brutal. It is a hectic lifestyle that demands a lot of sacrifices. I’m impressed by anyone that can do it day in and day out, year after year, and still love it like the four of you do.” I replied softly, my gaze drifting to where our hands rested on the table, his larger paw over my smaller one.

“It is a commitment and one I take seriously. The fans deserve a good show, and the company expects it from us. They both deserve my all after everything they have given me.” He told me sincerely, his thumb rubbing over the back of my hand, and I felt the butterflies in my stomach dance.

“They do, but your family deserves your time and attention as well. It can be hard on your wife and kids when you are gone so much. She’s left to manage the household and kids on her own, and that can be exhausting and stressful.” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, but he heard it and raised an eyebrow.

“You say that like you are speaking from experience.” He tilted his head to the side, a quizzical mien making me smile sadly.

“I grew up in this business, have been a part of it on my own for years. I know more than I care to admit. Your wife was a strong woman for staying with you for so long. Not all women are cut out to be a solo parent and a partner to someone in this life. I applaud those who do and completely understand why some burn out.” I intoned with tired honesty.

“Yeah, well, she decided she couldn’t live this life anymore and left me almost two years ago. Our divorce was finalized in January. She’s got primary custody because I’m gone frequently. She uh, she’s moved on and found a new boyfriend. He’s home more than I am, has more time for the kids, and is, in her words, ‘more stable’ than I am. The hardest part is I rarely get to see my kids any more between work and their schedules. I see them when I can, but it doesn’t feel like it is enough.” He admitted his marriage had fallen apart because of the company.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I remember hearing you were the perfect couple from some people I worked with when I first joined the company. The other kids in NXT were jealous of how supportive she appeared to be of everything you were doing. They all wanted a wife or husband like that. You were together for a while too, from college, right? That has to be hard.” I sympathized, remembering a few of Hunter’s short-lived relationships with women who couldn’t deal with his lifestyle, work schedule, and his daughter and how most of those things had changed after he and Steph started dating.

“I am beginning to believe you know more than you are letting on.” He teased me with a smirk.

“Maybe one day I will tell you the whole story.” I sat back, pulling my hand way, and smiled up at our waiter as he placed our drinks in front of us. 

When the waiter had departed again, Joe turned our discussion to inane, safe topics, and we chatted about nothing of consequence until our food arrived. I had ordered crab cakes and seasonal vegetables, and I looked over to see he’d ordered a steak and a loaded potato. For a minute, I wondered if I had gone to lunch with Hunter, the order nearly identical to what he would eat when we went out. I shook my head and sliced into a crab cake with my fork, the meaty patty falling apart perfectly, and I sighed as the first bite hit my tongue. The cake was the perfect blend of crab, vegetables, and breadcrumbs with the right amount of seasoning to make for a light, flavorful bite. He grinned between bites as he watched me eat, intrigued by my delight in my meal. He realized that I actually enjoyed my food and didn’t eat just to replenish the calories I’d burned. He paused to ask me about my diet, and I flushed, admitting I had a secret love affair with food and didn’t follow much of a nutritional regiment per se. He laughed and cut a bite of steak, forking the still bloody meat into his mouth.

“You know, it is sacrilegious for you to order steak at a seafood restaurant unless you have a food allergy right?” I pointed out, punctuating my question with my fork.

“Okay, since we are making confessions here’s mine, little miss foody. I brought you here because Hunter said seafood was a safe choice when I asked him about the best places to take you on a date. I enjoy seafood, but I have to be careful with my diet because of the Leukemia, hence the steak. I’m kind of maxed out on chicken this week. So um, I hope this made a good impression? I um, I will be happy if it did but um, if not I will understand.” He was chagrinned by his admitting he’d gone to my dad for help planning his date with me.

I paused, fork dropping from my fingers and I stared at him in shock, “Hunter put you up to this? He… Did he tell you to bring me here? Oh, that man!! This is dirty pool, and he knows it! I am going to give him a piece of my mind when I see him later!!” I tried to control my irritation at my father’s meddling in my life and failed.

He laughed as he watched my fiery streak come out, not understanding why I was upset.

“I think he meant well and wanted us to be comfortable. Don’t be too hard on him, okay? I would have figured out something on my own but I um, well I don’t know you well enough to decide where to take you. It seemed safer to ask him for advice.” He tried to soothe my ruffled emotions not grasping there was more to my hurt feelings than just the suggestion for the date.

“Yeah, we will see. He…” I took a breath not wanting to share dirty laundry just yet. “Never mind. I will talk to him later.”

He opened his mouth to make a quick aside about being glad he didn’t have to face me in the ring while I was angry, but the thoughts remained stillborn on his tongue. A flash of bright red material heralded the arrival of a new player on the field. I sat back and observed as a petite Latina woman around his age flung herself into his lap, squealing and talking a mile a minute in Spanish. I understood every word and found their conversation rude and disrespectful. She flirted shamelessly and made snide comments in my direction subtle enough he didn’t bother to ask her to stop. He helped her sit up but didn’t push her off his lap or suggest she use a chair which did little to ingratiate him in my presence. Their conversation continued in soft tones while I ate my lunch as though I weren’t there, and I noticed he was giving the interloper all of his attention. I finished my crab cakes, the vegetables, and my salad, and they were still flirting, teasing, and talking with an air of comfortable companionship that made me nauseous and embarrassed. She fed him between comments and I gave up, feeling like a third wheel on someone else’s date. My meal finished, and my discomfort peaked listening to them talk about things that were familiar to them. Feeling excluded and ignored, I turned to the one person I knew would save me. I sent Hunter a text begging him to come to get me and sipped at my wine while I waited on his reply. He answered that they had just turned the ninth hole and he was on his way to pick me up. I thanked him and finished my wine, waiting for him to message he was outside. 

I set down the empty glass when I saw the text that he was in the parking lot and grabbed my clutch. I murmured a quick excuse about needing the bathroom and stood up, striding away as quickly as was safe on my heels. Joe tracked me with his eyes until the woman in his lap realized what he was doing and pulled his face back to hers. She draped herself across his chest and tried to keep his attention as long as possible, teasing him verbally and physically. Eventually, he told her he needed to find out where his date had gone and if I was okay, concerned with how long I’d been gone and politely asked the woman to leave. She vacated his lap reluctantly, pouting at him as she stood beside him and pointed out he was wasting his time with the other woman. She told him the redhead wasn’t his type and wouldn't understand him as she could. He grabbed his jacket and finished his wine while she talked, and she realized he was going to leave. In a last-ditch effort to get him to stay, she pithily added he should sit down and join her for another glass of wine, pointing out that his date had been gone for at least twenty minutes by then. His head popped up, and he grabbed his phone, checking the time and cursing under his breath. He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, aware that if I’d been gone that long, his date was probably already back at the hotel or nearly there thanks to whatever means of transportation I’d arranged. He glared at the woman beside him and snarled that she’d ruined his date and stomped off to find the waiter. She stared after him, shocked and hurt, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t care that she burst into tears at his careless words or flung several curses at his departing back. When he located the young man that had been waiting on us, it turned out that not only had I been gone thirty minutes, but I’d paid for my half of lunch before I’d left, thus canceling the date aspect by forcing him to go Dutch. He sighed and paid for his half of the tab, tipped the waiter, and walked out. He felt dejected by my departure and angry with himself for letting things get out of hand. It was an exercise in self-control and forced calm to drive across town without speeding and minimal cursing, self-deprecation riding him as he dissected the date.

I had gotten the text from Hunter announcing his arrival and ambled toward the bathroom with a lie about powdering my nose. Joe had barely acknowledged my departure, engrossed in the conversation he was having with the woman on his lap. Half of me wanted to cry, and the other half demanded I grab the bitch by her hair and teach her a lesson about interrupting other people’s dates. I opted to maintain my dignity and headed toward the restrooms. I altered course when I knew he couldn’t see me and paused by the waiter’s station while he split our cheque. I paid and tipped him, thanking him for the delightful meal and excellent service then made my way to the exit. By skirting the edge of the room opposite where Joe sat, I was able to leave without being seen. I felt I was running away, but I recognized things weren’t going to work out and made the mature decision to walk away. I didn’t want to force a relationship forward when it had never gotten started in the first place, not capable of carrying the emotional burden of two people when one wasn’t committed to the venture. Striding into the sunshine and climbing into Hunter’s car allowed me to make peace with the decision even though it hurt. A small part of my heart had hoped Joe would be the one to break my self-imposed celibacy. I slid into the seat and pulled the door, staring out the window after I buckled up. Hunter didn’t ask about my date, but he did pat my knee, silently commiserating with me. My melancholy expression and the fact I’d texted him to pick me up told him plenty, and none of it did Joe any favors. The silence and my lack of volunteered information told him I was still processing what had gone on and would talk to him in time. He drove to the hotel, pulling up long enough for me to climb from the Lincoln Town Car and slam the door. He winced and sighed, aware that he would bear part of the brunt for this catastrophe. He went back to his golf game knowing I was furious with him and Joe and shrugged aware there was nothing he could do to fix it. He met the guys back at the clubhouse to finish the back nine after some lunch and hoped the storm would pass before he returned to take me to dinner.

While he drove back to the golf course, I stormed through the lobby and fumed during the elevator ride to my floor. I strode angrily through the halls to my room and slammed the door behind me, rage pouring from every inch of my body. I stalked to the bedroom and changed banged the door open then closed, my eyes searching the room for a change of clothes. I opted to put on the shorts and t-shirt from earlier and quickly shed the skirt and blouse. Comfortable in the new duds, I turned my attention to packing for the next few days. I hoped that the simple task would take my mind off of my afternoon, but it did little to calm me down. It took less than an hour to put everything I would need for the next three days in my trunk, my basic ring gear, clothes, shoes, makeup, accessories, and appliances for all occasions as well as toiletries all neatly arranged in the box.

I stood in the middle of the bedroom, mentally running through what I’d packed when a knock at the door caught my attention. I considered ignoring it, not in the mood to deal with people other than my dad. Hunter had my spare key in case he or Shawn needed to access my room, and they would have let themselves in rather than waste time on a knock. I sighed and hung my head, the thought that it might be someone from work with urgent news or Colby wanting to hang out after his workout crossed my mind. I padded through the room, still on edge, but calmer than when I’d gone the opposite direction. I opened the door to see who needed my attention. Joe stood on the other side waiting for me to grant him entrance, and as the door opened, he started to talk. The second I saw him I slammed the door in his face, my blood boiling at his audacity to show up at my room. He stared at the portal in surprise that quickly shifted into annoyance. He’d assumed I would be angry, but this was not the reaction he’d anticipated. He knocked again and heard a muffled order to leave him alone through the wooden panel followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me, Cailin.” His voice carried through the door as he informed me he intended to camp out in front of my room for the rest of the afternoon.

I glanced at the entrance wishing it would burst into flames and perhaps char him in the process. I marched back to the door and yanked it open, glaring at him. He stood on the other side, straight and tall, arms crossed over his chest, and I knew the expression he wore well from our time practicing together. His features were schooled into his stubborn, ‘I’m not leaving until I get my way’ look and I wanted to slap him. I had no desire to deal with his drama, but I knew he’d stand outside my door until I left for dinner. He would follow me to the lobby to meet the others for dinner while he argued his point unless I let him in and handled it then. My mien was cold and haughty as I motioned him inside and stepped aside to allow him entry, hoping to keep whatever fight we had contained to my room. He crossed the threshold and strode toward the couch, sitting down on the center cushion. He glared at me, agitated and insulted that I’d initially denied him entry. I swung the door forcefully toward the frame again for emphasis, not seeing it catch on one of the flip-flops he’d unintentionally kicked into the doorway as I started toward the entertainment center. I leaned back against the cabinet and returned his glare with one of my own, arms crossed over my chest.

“Why did you leave, and how did you get back?” He asked, sitting back to cross his arms over his chest in an echo of my posture.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? It isn’t like you saw me leave in the first place.” I countered him.

“Really, Cailin? You think I didn’t notice you were gone?” He snapped at me.

“No, you didn’t. You were too busy with your little friend. Speaking of which, why are you here? Did she not put out, or are you that quick to finish? Was she disappointed when she left?” I retorted, sniping at him.

“Did she… No! I didn’t take her to bed. I left her at the restaurant. What is wrong with you?” He blinked, half shocked, half furious.

“Wrong with me? You are the one that let her interrupt our date. Was it some kind of test to see how much bullshit I would put up with? Did you think I couldn’t handle fan interactions? I could have saved you the trouble if you had just asked me. I won’t put up with any bullshit, especially a display like that, not now, not ever. I make exceptions for fans because that is the nature of our business, but she was not a fan.” I had ice in my words as I vented on him, not caring how rude I was being.

“If you must know she’s the mother of one of my daughter’s classmates. I don’t know what she was thinking throwing herself at me like that, but I assure you it wasn’t planned. I’m sorry, okay?” He tried to explain, but I didn’t believe him.

“Oh, so do all of her classmates' mothers throw themselves at you or just the ones that know you are divorced and looking for a new fuck?” I demanded, fighting not to laugh when his features went from stubborn ire to stunned.

“Excuse me?” He gave me a chance to clarify the question as he sat forward.

“Did I stutter or are you going deaf from all the shows you do? Should I repeat the question louder for the kids in the back?” I asked in a sarcastic tone; Morgan had taken over, thoroughly intending to make him angry.

“She knows my ex-wife and that we are divorced. I didn’t know she was single or that she was interested in me until today. I have no desire to date her, especially with her reputation and the way her marriage ended. You would know that if you had stayed and if you spoke Spanish, but you didn’t, and you don’t. So now you are playing the assuming game, and you are going to find out that isn’t always the safest route to go.” He snarled at me, bracing his arms on his knees.

I blinked and swallowed back a bark of laughter. My fluency in languages permitted me to travel internationally with ease and work with athletes of many nationalities proficiently, a skill that had benefitted me in school. I proceeded to reiterate the conversation I’d been privy to in near-perfect mimicry and held back giggles when he paled, the olive tan he kept year-round blanching considerably. The way I said the words, mocked their voices, and imitated their facial expressions told him I’d heard plenty in the time I’d sat across from them. My initial greeting and present behavior hinted I’d drawn my own conclusions based on what had been said in front of me. He pushed up from the couch and stalked toward me with a growl. Something in his eyes made me pause in my recitation of his conversation, my hand curling into fists that I pressed into the console behind me. He stopped before me and placed his hands on the entertainment center to either side of my hips. I stared up at him, fear and anticipation in my gaze. I watched him struggle to find a response to my parroting of his discussion with the woman at the restaurant, wondering what he thought he was doing, nervous to have him that close to my body. A sense of… Dread? Anticipation? Excitement? Rage? Crept over my mind and the butterflies were back in my stomach, commanding as much attention as the fiery rage burning through my veins.

His features shifted and flowed as emotions ripped through him, his day not going to plan. Finally, his emotional turmoil settled, his mind concluding how to make his plea to the woman in front of him. He leaned down and brushed his lips across mine, and I froze for a second. A shock like lightning followed by an inferno of fury ripped through my psyche at the audacity he displayed thinking this was the correct response. In true Morgan fashion, what followed could only be described in one word – chaos. I felt hurt, angry, disappointed, jealous, and disrespected by him and because of the woman who had interrupted our date. The emotions were compounded by his response to my retelling of his conversation. I was infuriated. How dare he think he could seduce me into forgiveness? This was not a solution to his problem. The kiss came nowhere near rectifying the issues at hand. Instead, it was pouring kerosene on a bonfire, and it flared out of control. My flattened palms connected with his chest and he landed on his ass four feet away from where he’d begun, a startled look on his face.

“Get out.” I hissed at him.

I tried to breathe and glared at him, ignoring the tears in my eyes. I stepped over his legs on my way to the bedroom, wanting to put distance between us. My eyes went wide, and I flung myself into a somersault a second later when I felt my body begin to pitch toward the floor courtesy of a leg sweep from the man on the carpet. He kept making bad choices, and he learned, painfully, this was the latest one. I stood up at the end of the forward roll and pirouetted on my toes to face him. He saw the rage in my eyes, an instant warning he’d screwed up and whatever happened next would hurt. I launched myself at him, hitting him solidly in the chest, and his arms closed around my torso as we fell back. His spine connected with the floor, and he grunted as he impacted the thinly covered concrete. I pushed up from his chest and swung my fist, intending to give him a black eye to match the one from earlier in the week. He caught my arm and jerked it down, holding it with one hand while the other pinned its partner to his chest. I yanked and jerked against his hold, trying to free my hands, and he let them go. My arms snapped back to my frame a bit faster than I’d intended, and I nearly punched myself in the chest. His hands now free wrapped around my shoulders and hips, and he pulled me close before he rolled us over. His arms slid away from my back, and he planked above me, his weight pinning my lower body to the carpet while he maintained space between our chests and shoulders, thus giving me room to breathe. That cavity meant I had room to move, and I swung again, this time with my forearm and elbow. He grunted as his head turned with the impact, but he didn’t move, undeterred by the assault. He glowered down at me, and I tried to find a quick way out of the situation. My eyes swept over his body position, but with my legs trapped under him, no solution presented itself, and even my little demon couldn’t help me out of this predicament. For the first time since meeting Joe, I feared for my safety, and my mind began to respond in kind, dumping fight or flight hormones into my system.

I started to squirm, trying to pull my legs from under him and find some form of escape. My mind began to panic when I couldn’t budge him. He bent his head, and a variety of scenarios for what would come next ran through my mind. Images of how he could handle the situation flashed through my mind from him talking to me and offering another explanation for his actions to him telling me to calm down and behave to his growling voice informing I was a raging, crazy bitch and never wanted to see me again to him slapping me across the face. I got none of those or a dozen other scenes that flitted through my head at lightning speed. Instead, the subtle scent of his body wash teased my nose, and his face filled my vision. His lips found mine in a series of short, swift kisses I hadn’t prepared for, and the repeated touches of our mouths confused my mind. This change of tactic frustrated me as I tried to interpret his actions and the threat he posed through the lens of my past experiences. He continued until kissing me until I had a decision to make. I could cling to my fear, rage, and jealousy and find a way to kick his ass or I could return his attentions and let things between us play out as they might have before the interference from the unnamed woman from the restaurant. I wanted to be angry; I could use that to control the fear, especially with the added boost of jealousy. It was challenging to hold on to those emotions when my body was reminding me I found Joe attractive, and he was teasing me with those soft, sweet little kisses. He felt my hesitation, the gradual release of my resistance, and the moment I quit fighting to kiss him back. The pressure of my hands against his chest changed from pushing him away to resting lightly against his belly, fingers slowly curling into his shirt as the kisses deepened by degrees. He continued to kiss me, lengthening the time of each touch then teasing my lips with his tongue until they parted for him. He tested how far I would let him go, and I gave him a considerable amount of leeway after the rage I’d shown.

We lay on the floor for minutes, perhaps an hour, kissing and toying with the other’s hair, content to make up and make out until one of us called a halt. It was his hand sliding down my side, brushing over sensitive real estate that brought me to that point. A shiver brought on by the touch made my body wiggle under his, and I heard him groan. I pushed him away, my mind suddenly screaming that I was in the wrong place with the wrong person, and I was going to get hurt again. He rolled to his side, peering down at me. He observed my reaction to the absence of his weight and the withdrawal of his affection. He expected me to grab his shoulders and pull him back, desiring more of him, but that isn’t what happened. As he watched, my eyes closed, and my hand covered my mouth as I tried to hold in the sobs that came out of nowhere. My throat worked as I swallowed down the tears that welled up, but I lost the battle against the pain and fear that overwhelmed me. He blinked in surprise at the sudden shift in my emotions, and for a second, he didn’t know what to do. He realized his actions at lunch had hurt me even if they had been unintentional, and he regretted the event and his failure to end it sooner. He gathered my frame into his arms and shifted on to his back, holding me until the tears stopped. His hand stroked my hair and rubbed my back as he attempted to soothe my pain. He murmured apologies and promised it would never happen again. He swore his intentions going forward focused solely on him and I growing together as a couple without attention given to distractions. He begged for forgiveness and repented of his sins while I sobbed. We lay on the floor, my head on his chest, hips aligned, my legs between his, and he waited for the storm to calm, for me to answer him. I took my time, allowing a month of frustration to join the pain of his actions at lunch, and I vented it all on his shirt. It was a long cry, and he wondered if I would stop of fall asleep on his chest when it was over. Part of his mind thought it would never end. He felt the shuddering breaths that signaled the end of the tears and heard the sigh I let out and smiled. The sobs quieted and my chest rising and falling slowed from the rapid gasps at the peak of the episode. He slowed the stroking motions of his hands and looked down at my head. He wondered if the worst had passed and decided upon testing the theory.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I had no idea you were…” He sighed, “I didn’t know there were emotions involved or um, to the um, to this depth. I honestly had no idea she was at the restaurant or would behave like that, especially when I was obviously out with someone else. I have never given her a reason to think I was interested in her, and I don’t know why she decided to force herself on me today. If she wanted to get on my radar, she succeeded but not in the way she intended. I hope I never see her again. It nearly cost me the woman I want to pursue a future with, and I don’t appreciate that.” He tried to explain where he stood on the woman from lunch, “I am sorry our conversation upset you. I feel horrible about everything she said and the fact that I didn’t stop her. It was… It was shitty on my part, and I apologize. If you want me to prove I care for you, I will, and I will make up lunch if you want. Whatever you need to keep this… us… I don’t want this to end.” He wanted another chance and sounded sincere as he spoke, but I hesitated to give him one.

“I… I don’t know, Joe. I’m not sure about any of this, about… about us. Maybe it would be best if we took a step back and reconsidered what we have and where we are going?” I murmured, not wanting to walk away yet scared of being hurt by him further.

“And I think you need to explain why you are the floor with my daughter and why she’s been crying. What did you do, Joe? If you hurt her, I swear…” Hunter’s voice cut into the conversation.

My hands pressed into Joe’s chest, and I transitioned from lying flat into cobra pose. My hips pushed down into his as my upper body lifted from his torso, and I stared in horror at the man in the doorway. The shift of my body did Joe no favors, and he groaned, his hands dropping to my hips and held on to my ass as he assessed the situation. Hunter leaned against the door jam, the entrance having remained cracked thanks to my flip-flop having gotten stuck under the edge of the wood when I let Joe in earlier. It had given my dad silent access to my room and permitted him to catch us in a compromising position. I’d lost track of time as the events between Joe, and I had unfolded, my attention caught up in the fight, overwhelmed as we made out, and unaware as I’d cried on his chest.

“Daddy??” I gasped, uncertain how to explain what had transpired.

“Daddy?!” Joe demanded in shock below me, his hands tightening against my ass.

I scrambled off of him, frantic to put distance between us. He grunted a few times as I put my knees and elbows in places he didn’t appreciate, sensitive and tender portions of his body assaulted in my haste to vacate his chest. I took several steps away from him and stared at the floor, my mien giving the appearance of a teenager caught with her first boyfriend. Hunter stepped into the room, making sure the door shut behind him and leaned against it. He watched Joe sit up and look back and for the between father and daughter, the deep blush in my cheeks confusing him. I wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze, my mind racing as I questioned what Hunter had seen. I tried to sort out how to explain my afternoon in a way that wouldn’t cause him to give Joe a Pedigree.

“Go get dressed for dinner, little one. I’m wearing a black suit.” Hunter told me quietly, and I heard a tone in his voice I couldn’t place, a note that sent a shiver up my spine.

“Yes, sir,” I replied meekly, darting toward my bedroom with a quick peek thrown over my shoulder at Joe.

Once the bedroom door closed, Hunter let his head hang for a minute and sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his head as he paced back and forth. “This was not a discussion I planned on having today.” He muttered as he stopped in front of Joe and offered the younger man a hand up then pointed at the couch, “Have a seat, son, I think it’s time we talked.”

Joe gripped Hunter’s hand, and he allowed his boss to pull him from the floor. A look passed between the two as they stood face to face and Joe retreated to the couch but kept a wary eye on the older man as he crossed the room and sat down. Hunter ignored Joe as he strolled toward the rear of the room. He opened the mini-fridge and reached in, removing a bottle from inside. He set it on the counter and picked up a pair of glasses, turning them upright. He opened the bottle and poured a trio of fingers of amber liquid into the cups. He closed the bottle and returned it to the fridge then picked up the glasses and carried them to the coffee table. He set one cup down, sliding it toward Joe’s side of the table and sat down. He stared at the window beyond Joe’s shoulder, gaze vacant as he took a sip of the liquor in his glass and sighed, shaking his head.

“You probably have questions, I know I would if our positions were reversed. Go ahead and ask.” Hunter brought his attention to the man sharing the couch with him and permitted him to inquire about the relationship between him and the woman in the bedroom.

“What did she mean by ‘Daddy’? She’s too old to be yours and Steph’s. A um, a slip from your early career?” Joe picked up his cup while trying to be polite about it, but there was no nice way to ask about such a delicate topic.

Hunter barked out a laugh and shook his head, “No, no, she’s not biologically mine! I wish she were, she’s an amazing woman, and I am proud to call her mine. No, I adopted Cailin when she was seven, she… Her parents were killed in an accident.”

“Oh!” Joe blinked and took a sip from his glass, not certain what else to say. “How did you meet a seven-year-old orphan?”

“She played hockey with the son of a friend of mine. His wife commented she’d lost both parents and was in legal limbo because she was technically a citizen of Ireland, not the US. She was still in the US because the courts didn’t want to pay to send her home, and neither set of grandparents could afford to come to get her.” Hunter smiled and took another draught of his drink.

“Oh, so she’s… Wow, I didn’t know. She sounds like an American. So, how did she end up with you?” Joe’s curiosity was piqued now, and he eyed the liquor in his glass before he took another sip.

“Yeah, her parents immigrated from Ireland right after she was born so her father could teach at Columbia. He had a doctorate in Art History and was on staff at the MOMA as well. She doesn’t have an accent because she was raised in New York and Connecticut and she lacks one in general because well, she can do any accent she wants. She’s fluent in several languages, and I always know where she’s been by how she sounds when she’s on the phone.” Hunter chuckled, admitting his daughter was smart and had come from intelligent parents.

“But that doesn’t explain how you got custody of her.” Joe pointed out, tipping his cup toward Hunter to make his point.

“Ah, well, she had never met her grandparents and had no way to get to them. The state was going to send her in to foster care, but until the situation resolved, they permitted her to stay with friends. After the hockey game where my friend mentioned her situation, she introduced me to the girl. Something about her struck me and…” He took a breath, blinking a few times as he thought about the little girl that had stood in front of him before and after hockey games talking to him and learning to trust him. “I knew I couldn’t let her enter the foster system. I didn’t want to see it break her like it has so many kids. I was off the tour thanks to an injury, so I spent my recovery time getting to know her, trying to convince her to come live with me. I won’t lie, I felt awkward and a bit like a pedophile talking to a seven-year-old girl, but I offered to let her stay in the US and grow up with her friends. She took her sweet time getting to know me and making that decision. I think she thought I was a pedophile and I don’t blame her. You remember what I looked like when I first started in the WWE.”

Joe laughed and nodded, “She’s a smart girl to question your intentions! I wouldn’t have skipped off to live with you either even if you had promised me all the candy and ponies in the world!”

“Thanks.” Hunter grumped at him but smiled, knowing he was joking. “If convincing her was hard talking her grandparents into it was damned near impossible. I had to agree to let them talk to her every single week without restriction, she had to send them a letter every week, and I had to take her to Ireland every summer for at least a week. I had to send them a plan for her education and social offerings. I was willing to let her participate in and promised to maintain her religious practices. Let me tell you, it isn’t easy for a Protestant to set foot in a Catholic church and sit through mass week after week, but I was there for every chance I could get.”

“Wow. That is… You took her care very seriously. She’s Catholic?” Joe was awed by the lengths Hunter had gone for the girl he called his daughter.

“Yeah, her parents and grandparents are all Catholic, so I made sure she was in mass every week. I was there for her first communion and confirmation. Shawn is her godfather, and his wife is her godmother. It was… She looked beautiful in that white dress and that grin, so proud of herself as she took the sacraments.” He looked like a proud papa for a minute, eyes going glassy as he remembered his little girl dressed as a bride to accept her first communion. “Joe, I gave her every possible opportunity I could. I'm talking superior tutors, an excellent nanny that is still one of her best friends to this day, and every sport and lesson she could possibly want to take. I gave her all the time I could spare for her. She was with me when I met Stephanie, at the wedding, I took her to the hospital to meet her sisters when they were born, and she babysat my girls until she was eighteen. She’s… She’s a major part of my life.”

“So, if she’s that big a part of your life, why isn’t she wrestling under your name? Why bring the Undertaker into this?” Joe was confused, every last thing Hunter had said, indicating my dad hadn’t lied when he said I was his heart.

“Drink your Scotch, son, I will explain…” Hunter sighed and followed his own advice.

“I’m not allowed to wrestle or work in the industry under the Levesque, Helmsley, or McMahon names. It is part of the ridiculous prenup he signed before Vince would let him marry Stephanie.” I said softly from across the room, and their attention shifted from each other to me.

I stood by the kitchenette counter wearing a ruby dress, the floor-length skirt slit to my hips, red-bottomed black heels, and rubies adorned my ears and throat. I’d curled my hair and artfully arranged it to give me a more sophisticated look that Joe wasn’t used to seeing. I noted the heat in his eyes and smiled, motioning for Hunter to change while I joined my would-be suitor on the couch. Hunter stood up and waited for me to approach them. He dropped a kiss on my forehead before he walked out and left me alone with Joe. I heard the door shut as I sank to the couch and picked up my dad’s abandoned glass, swirling the contents and sniffing at them. I sighed and shook my head, shooting the remaining finger of liquor inside and set the glass down. My gaze flicked to the door for a second, a disappointed look meant for my dad on my face. Joe blinked as the cup was emptied, stunned by how I handled thirteen-year-old Scotch but he didn’t understand the way I’d been raised, our world disparate despite both coming from wrestling families.

“Why the hell not?” He was outraged at the words I’d spoken.

“I am the stepchild, the literal redheaded one. Vince was and still is convinced I would usurp Stephanie’s place in Hunter’s life at some point. Stupid really if you think about it, but Vince is paranoid and overprotective of his empire. Shane and Stephanie are part of that kingdom. He refuses to consider that I am a threat to anything other than my dad’s bank account.” I giggled and shook my head, the idiocy of my step-grandfather writ on my features.

“So, in his fevered paranoia, he made Hunter sign a prenup that excluded you from claiming something that is rightfully yours?” He took a sip from his cup and tried to understand.

“Yup. Vince almost convinced Steph to leave Hunter because of me, but Hunter managed to salvage it by offering to sign a prenup with whatever Vince wanted in it as long as they could get married. Despite my lack of interest in wrestling back then, Vince put the clause in there, and we have abided by it, but my existence has been a bone of contention between Hunter and Vince from day one. I’m not his blood, no relation whatsoever, and Stephanie hates that I’m his baby girl, so she’s gone along with it, claiming she’s trying to protect the legacy that belongs to her girls.” I explained why I wasn’t allowed to claim the name I legally wore.

“She’s… You make her that insecure?” Joe was flabbergasted, knowing how deeply Hunter cared for his wife.

“I’m his baby girl, his oldest child, his first foray into parenthood. He fell in love with me as any dad does with their daughter, and I have a special place in his heart. My sisters have a part of his heart as well, and he would kill for any of us, take a bullet for his girls. She hates that I’m included in that. I might not be his biological child, but he’s my dad, and he’s given me everything. He’s taken care of me in a manner my parents would have approved of and…” My voice trailed off for a moment, my gaze a million miles away for a minute as I considered everything Hunter and I shared, “He’s been through a lot of shit because of me, but he’s also been there for me during some of the worst points in my life. He may not be my biological father, but for a replacement, I couldn’t have done better.”

Joe listened, sipping his drink, and watching the emotions that flitted across my face. He saw the hurt, anger, bitterness, love, pride, and joy I felt as I gave him a glossed over version of my bond with Hunter and how it affect our lives.

“You aren’t supposed to be wrestling under his name yet here you are. How?” He questioned my presence on the main roster based on what he’d learned.

“Hard work and a little creative license on Hunter’s part.” I giggled and stood up, strolling across the room to the kitchenette.

“Okay, let’s start with the obvious. When you say hard work…” He left the sentence open for me to elaborate and watched as I pulled the bottle from the fridge.

“Shawn started training me at thirteen. I started wrestling on the Indie circuit at seventeen.” I waited while he coughed up the Scotch he’d just swallowed, and I walked back toward him. “Yeah, Dad had the same reaction when Shawn finally confessed to sneaking me into beer halls and Elks Lodges. He had promised Hunter for years he was taking me to my dance and gymnastics lessons which he was, but he’d been omitting the fact he’d been training me along with those classes.”

He took a ragged breath and set the cup down, watching me sit down across from him, “So, what made Hunter agree to let you do this if he was so against it?”

“Shawn brought him to one of my events. I was paired up with a skinhead the size of Colby, and I beat the guy to a pulp. Hunter was shocked by how good I was, and when I won, he was a proud papa. He hugged me so tight I thought he was going to crack my ribs.” I smiled, remembering the first time Hunter had come to see me fight. “It helped Shawn got him drunk when he finally confessed, and Hunter thought it was a dream until he saw me fight. The grin on his face lasted for weeks, and it pissed Stephanie off that I’d made him so proud, but nothing she could do would wipe it off.”

He laughed and sat back, relaxed as he sipped his drink and appreciated the work I had put in to get to this point, “When you said Hunter took creative license what did you mean?”

I sighed and set down the bottled I had just poured, a fresh pair of fingers of amber liquid filling my empty glass, “I was born Cailin Grace O’Reilly, and I lived with that name until I was seven. Then my world was… It was shattered. My parents left me with a friend for a sleepover while they had a date night. They never came home, and my friend's house became mine for a while. Thankfully they were super sweet about it and tried to help me put my world back together.” I took a shuddering breath, and he saw the tears I blinked back, his hand reaching over to stroke my arm as he tried to comfort me. “Katie, my friend’s mom, took me to my hockey game, and Alex, one of the boys I played with, was super excited because his Uncle Hunter was there. After the game, he dragged me over to meet this tall man with huge shoulders and long blond hair and a great big nose. I was terrified. My dad was a slight man, kind of like Sami, and this man was a beast. Well, he mentioned Alex’s mom had told him about my situation, and he offered to let me stay with him. I thought he was crazy. Fast forward a couple of months, and he was still around. I'd gotten over my fear and, with the blessing of my grandparents, he was permitted to adopt me. When he took the paperwork before the judge, he specifically asked that my last name be hyphenated in case when I turned eighteen, I could drop the Levesque part if I didn’t want it anymore. So, technically, I am Cailin Grace O’Reilly-Levesque, but since I turned eighteen, I only use the O’Reilly part even though the Levesque is still part of my name. I never dropped it legally.”

Joe saw me calm down as I explained the short version of my adoption and the name I bore and grinned, “That is clever. How does that play into your present situation? I am guessing you weren’t ever supposed to work in the WWE?”

“Well, aren’t you the insightful one!” I giggled and took a sip of my drink, contemplating how to phrase things before going with an honest answer. “Contracts are a funny thing. They are legally binding documents as I’m sure you are aware, but they only apply to the person whose name is on them. I got out of a few nasty bits of work thanks to that technicality. When Hunter decided it was time to bring me to the fold, he deliberately singed me under my birth name and left off the second half of my last name. When Stephanie presented me with my new contract for this stint on the main roster she didn’t bother to check it and whomever in Legal did the paperwork graciously decided to be lazy and copped and pasted most of my original NXT contract with a few caveats she had added, so the paper I signed was made out to Cailin O’Reilly, not Cailin O’Reilly-Levesque or Cailin Levesque.”

He took a sip of his drink and nodded, acknowledging my comment about contracts and smirked at my sneakiness. “You are here legally then?”

“Yup, completely legal. Vince found out I was NXT when I won the women’s championship and tried to get me fired by saying my presence violated the prenup. It was garbage, and he knew it. Hunter stood up for me, and Vince threatened to get him removed on the same premise, that he had violated the prenup. You should have seen Vince’s face when Daddy presented the contract to him, and it didn’t say Levesque, Helmsley, or McMahon on it anywhere. The board was not amused by Vince’s tantrum and cautioned him against trying anything else. Legal pointed out he didn’t’ have a leg to stand on under that argument.” I grinned into my cup as I took a swallow of my drink. “Vince let it go until the last couple of weeks because I’ not a visible presence in his world again and he doesn’t like it. The fact Stephanie even considered me for this role is shocking really, considering how much Vince dislikes me. I have no idea what she was thinking calling me up, but eh, either this will be excellent for my career, or it will be a disaster for our relationship. Either way, I am not counting on maintaining my place on the WWE roster once this contract is up.”

“It’s that big a deal?” He asked, tones in his voice telling me he was concerned about the future, our future.

“Again, redheaded stepchild.” I bit off every word while giving him a look that said everything.

“I see. Why did Hunter decide to have this chat now?” He inquired, watching for a hint of what my dad had been thinking.

I sighed and studied the contents of my glass for a minute. “He’s my dad, and like any good father, he’s protective of his little girl. He wants what is best for me as all dads do when it comes to their kids, and at the moment he’s questioning if it is you. Hence why he helped you pick where to take me on our date.” I told him, my tone smug, a smirk creasing my lips as his jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?” He managed to croak out once he got passed his flabbergasted freeze.

“He claims you are interested in me and your behavior backs that up. I told him about our little… episode on the plane and well…” I flushed and looked down at my lap for a second. “He walked in to find us on the floor in what could be considered a compromising position. You had your hands on my body, and I had tears on my cheeks. He had to be wondering what you had done to me because I rarely cry and I usually only do so when he’s around. His first thought would have been you had hurt me somehow but…” I was cut off by Hunter’s voice from the doorway.

“But I know my daughter and the look she gave me when I interrupted screamed guilt. That told me you had engaged in something I will label as romantic and it might have led to other things in that vein if I hadn’t said anything.” He chuckled as he walked in, dressed in a tailored suit and tie, the black and white showing his tan nicely. 

“Now, Daddy, I’m not a little girl anymore, and you want grandchildren eventually…” I pointed out as Joe took a sip of his drink and summarily choked on it for the second time since I’d returned from changing clothes.

I stood up and walked over to where my adoptive father stood watching my would-be beau try to regain his ability to breathe, amusement in my eyes. H shook his head at his mischievous little girl and pointed to the door, indicating he wanted a moment alone with Joe. I smiled at the man on the couch and tilted my head in farewell then walked out, clutch in hand. Joe waved, and Hunter walked around the coffee table to take up the seat I’d vacated, a curious mine to his features. Joe coughed a few more times, and Hunter chuckled.

“You okay?” H asked Joe, and he nodded, “She tell you the rest?” 

“She told me enough to make me wonder if I am sane for even asking her out. Are you… Do you really believe I can make her happy? Is this even a good idea? Am I good enough for her?” Joe replied in a raspy tone, thinking perhaps he was in over his head for a change.  
“That depends on what the idea is. And yes, I think you might be good enough for her.” Hunter chuckled at him, encouraging him to be more articulate in a roundabout kind of way.

“I think I like your daughter, Hunter, and I have every intention of asking her out again, but… Your family, this internal feud between her and Steph and Vince… My job…” Again, Joe flailed while trying to make his point.

“It isn’t my father-in-law or my wife you need to be concerned with, son; it is me. I have already told you once, but in case you forgot, I will remind you of my warning. If you hurt her, I will hurt you, and I have plenty of ways to do that. She’s my daughter, and I will do everything in my power to protect her. Got it?” Hunter cautioned him firmly.

“I will do my best to avoiding her, but, Hunter, I’m human, and I have a past.” Joe reminded H that he was fallible.

“I know about your past, Joe, and she will adapt to the kids. That’s not what I’m talking about. You treat her good, you take care of her, and don’t even look in the direction of another woman, or you are going to get your ass beat routinely at every show you work. She’s been hurt badly once before, and I won’t have it happen again. Understand?” H made sure Joe knew the difference between dealing with his past and the potential stressed that could cause and the threat he posed to my present wellbeing.

“Okay, I will try to be the best man possible for her,” Joe promised with a nod.

H echoed the nod and stood up, walking out and leaving Joe to finish the alcohol in his glass and clean up the room before he left. I leaned against the wall by my door and heard the entire exchange. When Hunter exited the room, his eyes met mine, the impishly curious mien on my face made him chuckle as he realized I’d been listening. He offered me his elbow, and we walked down the hall to the elevator. We went to dinner, the ride to the restaurant and the meal a quiet one. The silence was unusual for us; our attention kept to our plates and the interactions necessary to order dinner. It felt stilted and cool even to outsiders, everything pointing to a couple that had recently had a tiff. He wanted to ask me about Joe and my feelings for him and any plans I might have made with him. I wanted to ask him about Joe and his opinion of the man. Was my dad honest when he said he thought Joe might be good enough for me? That brought up new questions about our potential relationship and how Hunter would expect us to behave at work. Would this affect the role I played and how it progressed going forward? I needed to know more about his divorce, his family situation, and a dozen other things I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I hadn’t been this uncomfortable with Hunter in years. The unspoken questions hung between us like specters, blocking our communication and unsettling our minds.

We finished eating, and I was grateful it was over. He sent me to the car while he paid the tab and joined me a few minutes later. I was typing on my phone, and he shook his head, muttering about kids and technology under his breath. I didn’t respond, and he gave me a once over, sighing and reaching over to pat my hand when I finished the message. I glanced at him then turned to stare out the window, and he knew I was in a tumultuous state if I wasn’t talking to him. I shared everything with him; I had from the time he’d adopted me to the present whether by slow droplets of information or a torrent of conversation. The silence permeated the car, and it discomfited him because he couldn’t decipher a specific cause. It was a matter of time before I told him everything I had on my mind, but until then, he was left to wonder and speculate about what had upset me. We rode to the hotel deep in thought, the soft music playing on the radio fracturing the quiet as he drove. He pulled in to the parking lot and parked, pointing to a van waiting by the doors to the lobby.

“The van leaves in thirty minutes. You need to be on it.” He instructed me.

“I… You aren’t going with us this time? But… What about…” I asked him softly, the realization he wasn’t going to be with me set in.

“No, baby, I can’t. I have to deal with some things here and possibly go to Connecticut if I can’t fix the problem from here. I will be at the show Monday if I get done in time otherwise I will be back in time for practice on Wednesday.” He shook his head but assured me he would join us as soon as possible.

“Oh. Okay. Um, don’t worry, I will be ready to go on time. Be safe, okay?” I needed to know he would be back soon.

“I will, and I will be watching both shows. I will call you after each one. I promise.” He grinned at me in an attempt to make me feel better.

I hugged him tightly, nodding at his assurance he would return. I knew he would be watching the shows; he always did when we weren’t together. I wanted to make him proud, but I worried about this trip to the point I felt ill. It would be a rough seventy-two hours, and he knew the time spent sharing the hotel with Ring of Honor, New Japan Professional Wrestling, and TNA would pose the biggest threat to his daughter. He knew I wouldn’t be safe until they were out of the hotel, and he dreaded letting me face this alone. He held me for a minute then patted my back, resigned to the situation.

“You need to change and get ready for your flight.” He reminded me gently.

I pulled away and nodded, climbing from the car and striding away. He watched me gather the mantle of clam and poise I work so effortlessly as I walked toward the doors of the lobby and sighed. He saw it for what it was, a smokescreen designed to protect my heart from further pain. He’d felt the trembling of my limbs, seen the fear in my eyes, and understood why I felt the terror I tried to hid. His stomach was in anxious knots as he let me make the journey on my own, praying it was all wasted emotion. He suspected it wasn’t and his mind ran with the possible encounters his daughter could have in the next day and a half while we were separated. He pulled out his phone and called Steph, telling her he would go to Connecticut once the pay-per-view was over. They argued for a few minutes, but he won by pointing out that if my ex was in the hotel, I needed him, and he would be there for me. She huffed and hung upon him. He felt irritated and angry as he stomped into the hotel looking for the men his little girl would be traveling with. He found them sitting at a table in the bar area, drinking and watching a game on the television. He walked up and waited on their conversation to die. They grew quiet and looked up at him, and he could tell it made them uneasy to see him there.

“I need to ask you all to do me a favor. It isn’t easy for me to make this request and I have reasons for doing so please, do as I ask. I need you all to keep an eye on Cailin, please. Don’t let her go anywhere alone, especially at the hotel. Don’t let her get into trouble until she’s in the ring, okay?” He begged them to watch out for his daughter.

“Sure, we can do that. We will save her from all the men that are going to throw themselves at her!” Nick joked, not realize how close he had come to the reality of the situation.

The others chuckled and shook their heads, finding his comment amusing.

“I’m serious, Ziggler, keep her safe. That’s an order.” Hunter growled at them then pointed at Joe and motioned for him to step away from the group.

Joe sighed and set down his beer, wondering what Hunter wanted from him. He followed Hunter a few feet away, and once they were out of earshot, Hunter turned to him. The tired look on H’s face aged him before Joe’s eyes, the dread of the next two and a half days catching up with the older man. Joe knew whatever Hunter was stressing over was important, and he needed to listen to H’s request.

“Ring of Honor, New Japan, and TNA are in San Antonio this weekend. Their event shadows your arrival tonight and our morning tomorrow. There is a member of the TNA stable that has a history with Cailin, um, not a good history. He’s obsessed and violent and he will… I’m scared he will hurt her. He’s tried in the past. I need you to protect her, please. I know you care about her, and I need to know I can trust you to keep her safe.” He put a hand on Joe’s shoulder and asked the other man to protect the woman they both loved, an open show of trust between the two. 

“I will do everything in my power to protect her; you have my word, Hunter. She will be safe with us.” Joe promised to protect me, and H seemed to deflate in relief.

H nodded his thanks and left the lobby while Joe walked back to the table. The others gave him curious looks, but he shook his head and shrugged. When they asked about the discussion between him and Hunter, he told them what they already knew. Hunter thought I would get into trouble and was concerned for my safety. They went back to watching the game and talking, their drinks emptying while they relaxed. When I turned up a few minutes later with my bag in tow, they looked at me a little different, and I wondered what if anything Hunter had said to them about my ex. The guys stood up and grabbed their bags, the empty bottles of beer left on the table, and we headed for the doors. The guys maneuvered my smaller frame into the middle of the group, and I adjusted my stride to accommodate theirs. I felt like Ezio from Assassins Creed trying to sneak into the city by hiding in a group of monks only in this case I was invisible inside the circle of men, disguised by their height and bulk. Nick took my trunk from me and handed it to the driver then the rest of the guys handed over their bags in turn, rotating who was standing near me until the luggage was loaded in the rear of the vehicle. Colby helped me into the van and climbed in beside me, chatting as casually as he could manage as a cover for his protective behavior. The other guys followed us into the vehicle, and I noticed that Joe was standing by the front passenger door watching me, the traffic, and the people around us with the air of someone expecting a threat to pop out of nowhere. He was the last one into the vehicle, and the door closed behind me. The men relaxed once the an was on the road, but I saw them resume their tense alertness when the vehicle pulled up in front of the airport. We climbed out, and they unloaded our bags in the reverse order they’d been loaded, never leaving me alone while the luggage was removed from the rear and handed to its owner. Someone stood beside me at all times while we got our boarding passes and checked our bags for the flight, and I felt fear begin to slither up my spine. I felt the beginnings of paranoia creep over me when they formed a protective guard around me, and we began to walk through the terminal. The walk to the gate was slower than usual because they chose to accommodate my shorter strides, and I kept trying to scoot out of the middle of the group to make walking easier for them. I was quickly growing agitated by their strange behavior, and it only got worse as the night wore on.


	11. I will Fear the Devil, for He is Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have arrived at the hotel and are checking in when Cailin has an unfortunate run-in with another guest. Her past becomes her present in violent technicolor and the guys have little recourse save to let the situation play out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning** \- Please do not proceed further if you cannot handle violence or assault.
> 
> Author's note - I am so sorry I haven't posted in a while. Life has been hectic but I am working on another chapter frantically!!

I allowed the guys to herd me through the airport until we got to our gate. Unlike most trips where we boarded the chartered jet in the hanger, this time, we were taking a larger plane, and we needed an elevated gangway to enter the cabin. When we reached our gate, they found a corner for us to sit down in and did their best to keep us isolated from the rest of the group. The guys took turns going to the bathroom and getting snacks and drinks. Joe offered to bring me anything I wanted rather than let me get it myself. The cast and staff from Orland had joined us for this flight, and people milled around in small pockets, wandering from group to group to say hello to friends and generally be social. Any time someone came over to talk, they kept the conversations short and to the point rather than relaxing and chatting as they normally would. When Baron approached me to talk, they scared him off, and I blinked, surprised at how excessive their protective behaviors were becoming. I touched Drew’s arm and mentioned I wanted to talk to Baron, but he refused to allow the other man near me. Fed up, I pushed my way out of the group’s core and snapped at the four men I was an adult and could care for myself. I stomped off to the bathroom with Nattie and Baron hot on my heels.

Joe called Hunter and asked what to do, nervous that I wouldn’t come back. Hunter asked him why I’d lost my temper, and Joe explained how they had been managing my safety. Hunter sighed and told him to give me some space and assured him I would calm down, encouraging Joe to tone down the overprotectiveness a little. Joe promised they would try but admitted they were all wound a little tighter than usual thanks to H’s request and rang off. Joe shared Hunter’s insight, and the rest of the guys shrugged. They felt they had been handling things the proper way and didn’t understand why I’d gotten angry. When I didn’t return right away, Joe began to search the crowd for me, and Colby scoured the hall. The guys anxiously waited for me to return and worried I would skip the flight on purpose to make my point.

Nattie and Baron had overheard me lose my temper on the guys and had fallen in step with me as I stormed toward the bathrooms, worried I would do something to provoke further confrontation. I strode into the family bathroom and hung out there with Nattie and Baron until we heard the last call for boarding at our gate. I knew we had to make this flight, but I didn’t want to go back to the guys, their ridiculous behavior was slowly making me insane. Colby texted me when they walked to the plane and let me know they would see me on the jet, discouraging me from waiting too long to board and adding they were getting worried about me. Nattie left a few minutes before the last call to give Baron and I some time alone, a heartfelt desire to make up for what the guys had denied me. He held me close and asked why the guys were acting overly protective, but I shrugged, admitting that Hunter had probably put them up to it. When the last call for boarding sounded, we sighed and separated, walking hand in hand to the gate to present our passes and walk down the gangway. We were among the last to board and, I passed the guys on my way to my seat. The four men were watching for me, searching the steady stream of passengers walking by, and none of them relaxed until I’d headed toward the rear of the plane. I seemed none the worse for wear and, they assumed I was fine, my calm exterior coaxing them into a false sense of comfort about the trip and my mental state. 

The truth was after I’d gotten the text from Colby, I’d called Hunter and demanded an explanation. He apologized for their overbearing behavior and said he’d already talked to Joe about toning it down. He confessed that he’d asked them to watch out for me and had done so out of a deep-seated need to protect me while we were apart. I reminded him angrily I was an adult and could care for myself and hung up on him. The tiff only added to our stress because I never hung up on Hunter or yelled at him, and he recognized how near to panicked I was. Now, sitting in my assigned seat, I wondered if maybe it had been the wrong thing to say to all of the men in my life. I sat separate from the guys, and for the first time all day, I began to question if I could truly take care of myself in this situation. The last time I’d seen my ex-boyfriend Hunter, Shawn, and several others had been with me for security. I’d seen him long enough to get my belongings from our apartment and leave, and that had been a massive strain on my mind and emotions. This time I was dependent on my coworkers to protect me, and I questioned if I trusted them enough to keep me safe from the psychotic man I’d once dated. Everything hinged on what happened once we got to the hotel, and my mind swam with possibilities, all of them making my heart race and my skin go cold. My hands shook as I reached for my phone, and I tapped each letter with my index finger, typing slower than usual as I sent Joe a message. He replied a minute later, and I felt my eyes fill with tears. He promised he would be by my side throughout the weekend, and I believed him.

I forced myself to repeat the breathing exercises my therapist had taught me and calmed myself. I spent most of the flight subconsciously focusing on my respirations, using the practices to center myself. By the time we were airborne, I had settled down enough to think clearly and decided to distract myself from the ‘what if’s’ by watching film of previous matches. I unlocked my phone and pulled my earbuds from my bag. I plugged in the earbuds and opened the company’s network app, searching for the videos I’d been reviewing in preparation for the following evening. I found one and began to watch it, determined to perform my job no matter what my ex put me through. The older woman beside me took one look at the video I watched, a fight between Drew and Roman, and sniffed, offended. She reached into her New Day bag and pulled out a knitting project, and I giggled. I watched the film and made notes about where I could trip Roman up, reviewing every possible way I could torment him on the far side of the ring, and listing small things I could do to help Drew win. I closed the first video and opened a second, scribbling more notes on my tablet as I studied the film, repeating this sequence three times over. Scouting my opponents kept me busy for the ninety-minute flight to San Antonio, and I focused blissfully on something other than my ex-boyfriend and our potential meeting. I started to lose my focus when we began our descent, and by the time I felt the wheels touch down, I was shaking again. The nausea I’d felt earlier crept back into my stomach, and my mind raced with images of past conflicts with my ex and how they had ended. I longed for my dad, and wanted him close by, needed his imposing form to assure me I was safe. Barring his presence, I needed, wanted to be close to Joe, his promise to my dad that he would keep me safe a glimmer of hope in a desolate wasteland of fear and despair.

We taxied to the gate we had been assigned and sat for several minutes while the flight crew went through their post-flight checks, and the ground crew brought over the equipment necessary to unload the luggage and clean the plane. People around me began to get up and open the overhead bins, pulling down their carry-on bags and small suitcases and duffle bags in preparation for exiting the cabin. I sent Hunter a quick text to let him know we had arrived then shoved my phone into my carry-on. I set the bag in my lap, waiting for the aisle to begin clearing so that I could catch up with the guys. The door opened, and the cue of bodies started plodding forward, each person in the aisle letting someone in a row ahead of theirs out before moving again. It was tediously slow, and my anxiety level was beginning to soar as I stood up and joined the shuffle of people. We trudged off the plain, and I blinked at the number of coworkers with whom we had shared the flight. I knew it was a full flight, but the crush of bodies was more significant than I had anticipated. The slow shuffle of sleepy people was maddening, and I prayed the guys were waiting for me. I understood if they weren’t, I hadn’t behaved kindly toward them before we had departed Tampa, and they had merely been trying to protect me. I knew I could catch up with my teammates at the luggage carousel, but I dreaded the idea of walking the terminal alone. Men seemed to think a female without visible traveling companions was an open invitation to hit on and harass them, and it was worse for me because I was a redhead. I hated that aspect of traveling with a passion and did my best to avoid talking to anyone unnecessarily while walking through airports, whether domestic or international. I made exceptions for fans because they were the lifeblood of my business, but generally, the men that wanted to chat weren’t interested in what I did for a living. 

I plodded through the aisle of the plane until I reached the gangway, and the line of people broke up a little, the broader hall allowing those who needed to stretch their legs the option to do so. I lengthened my strides, weaving around slower-moving staffers and cast members until I approached the door leading to the terminal. I came through the portal at a clip and found for familiar faces waiting beside the desk for me. I slowed to a stop in front of Joe and leaned into him, needing to feel his imposing presence for a minute. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, feeling the trembling of my frame and held me. I murmured an apology for my earlier behavior, and he chuckled. He let me go, and I stepped back, not meeting his eyes, and turned to the others, offering soft repentance for prior sins. They took turns hugging me and assuring me that they understood, apologizing for being overly protective. With the unity of the group restored, we began to walk toward the baggage claim. Joe’s hand wrapped around mine, and I gave his paw a quick squeeze. He grinned, and I smiled shyly, comfortable with this new aspect of our relationship. The other men formed a protective barrier around me to the front, side opposite Joe, and back as we walked. We moved through the halls of the airport swiftly despite the hour, and people got out of our way when they saw us coming. I giggled, thinking we most look like a fearsome bunch with Nick in front of me, Colby and Joe to either side and Drew bringing up the rear. Joe heard me laugh and glanced down, something he repeatedly did throughout our stroll, but I never returned his gaze. I focused on the walkway ahead of us, and maintaining the pace of my strides lest Drew run me down with his long legs. 

We reached the baggage claim unmolested, and I relaxed a little. A handful of staff members wearing company polo shirts directed us to a holding area away from the luggage carousels where our bags waited. One by one, the guys found their cases, and Joe snagged my trunk for me, pulling it along with his stack of luggage to where I waited with the rest of the guys. They never left me alone, and I didn’t argue with them. Baron touched my arm for a second, and I gave him a weak smile before I walked away. We strolled to the car rental counters with minimal fan interactions, and I had a moment of gratitude for the lateness of our night. In my present state, I doubted I could have been professional while dealing with fans, and the few times someone wanted a picture with me were a strain. I stayed beside Joe as we walked, and any time fans stopped him or Colby, I stood beside Drew and Nick. At the check-in counter, I stood beside Joe while he claimed the car he would share with Colby. Drew and Nick gave me questioning looks but accepted that Joe and I were in the process of becoming a couple when my cheeks turned pink. Drew leaned down and teased me about it softly, and my flush deepened, which caused him and Nick to chuckle. He said he would see us at the hotel and motioned for me to go with the man he dubbed my ‘boyfriend’. Joe had requested a large SUV and suggested we ride together. Nick agreed and canceled his reservation in favor of keeping the group together and giving them better options on watching over me. We strolled out of the airport and followed the signs for the rental car pick up. We stood on the curb with our luggage and waited while Joe finished the paperwork and signed for the vehicle. While he was busy doing official business, the guys teased me about him and our blossoming relationship. 

“So, Cailin, when were you going to tell us you and Joe were an item?” Drew asked arms crossed over his chest with a glint in his eye.

“A what?” I blinked and flushed.

“You and Joe are dating?” Colby picked up on where Drew was going.

“Um, no. We uh, we went to lunch once, but um, it didn’t um, yeah, it was just lunch.” I felt my face flame and stared at the ground.

“Just lunch? That isn’t the face of someone who has gone to ‘just lunch’. I’d say they’ve made it to second base at a minimum!” Nick teased, and my head popped up, eyes wide.

“We have not!” I protested, and Drew chuckled.

“Nah, Nick, she’s not like the girls you tend to date. She’s the slow-moving type, a proper lady. You wouldn’t know anything about them. I doubt he’s even seen her nickers yet.” Drew countered Nick’s supposition, and I gaped at him.

“My… No. I… He…” I couldn’t breathe, and the guys were starting to laugh.

“Be nice guys; she’s already the color of a fire truck. I doubt she turns that red when he’s kissing her.” Colby jumped in, and I gulped, images of Joe and me on the floor of my room flashing in my mind.

“We aren’t a couple!” I announced angrily, “I don’t know what we are. I do know that right now, he makes me feel safe, and that is all that matters. Now shush.” My voice softened as I confessed I wasn’t sure how to describe what Joe and I had.

“Oh. Well, when you figure it out, let us know. We want an invitation to the wedding!” Nick teased, and I gaped.

“Wedding? What wedding?” I blinked.

“You are assuming they make it that far. They might not make it through the weekend! He can’t avoid making her mad, and she’s got no patience for his fuck ups. Who knows what she will do the next time he says something she doesn’t like!” Colby reminded them of the punch I’d given Joe earlier in the week.

“He deserved that. And we can’t break up if we aren’t a couple. Right now, we are just talking. Marriage isn’t even on our radar.” I snapped at him, muttering, “There are worse things that could happen this weekend.”

“What was that?” Joe asked as he walked up.

“Oh, we were just asking the lass when the wedding was. Ya could have told us you were dating.” Drew grinned at him.

“We could have if we were, but since we aren’t just yet, I don’t see how it is any of your business. If we do happen to start dating, we will consider letting you know, but even then, it isn’t any of your Damned Business.” Joe made his stance on things clear, and the others took a step back while I stared a hole in the concrete, my cheeks a dark red. “Now, let’s get the luggage in the SUV and get to the hotel. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”

Keys in hand, he opened the rear of the SUV we were assigned, and we took turns putting our bags in. Drew took the front passenger seat, and Joe drove, leaving Nick, Colby, and I to share the middle bench while the luggage took up the back of the SUV.

“You know, it is a good thing you are tiny.” Nick quipped, squirming on the seat beside me.

“Why is that?” I demanded in a huff.

“Because if you were built like Joe or Drew, we would be really uncomfortable!” Colby teased, and I blinked.

“Yeah, well, if you weren’t so broad and muscular, we would all be comfortable.” I snapped back, and I heard Joe laugh.

“Eh, you are tiny, there is plenty of space,” Nick smirked, giving Colby a look over my head.

“I am not tiny!” I retorted, annoyed that they were making fun of me still.

“Sure, you are! You are all cute and dainty and adorably small!” Colby grinned, and he and Nick began to smush me with their combined weight as they scooted closer.

“Get off of me! You are horrible!” I elbowed both of them firmly in the gut, and they quickly shifted away from me, holding their bellies. “Forget it; next time, we get two cars!” 

Joe and Drew were guffawing, and I glared at them, slouching down in the seat. The picking and teasing helped take my mind off the potential encounter with my ex, and laughing calmed the butterflies in my stomach. We grew quiet as Joe navigated the parking lot and eased us into traffic, searching for the exit from the airport. I tried to remain still and tried to ignore the stress-induced exhaustion creeping up on me. My energy levels were beginning to run low after the emotional roller coaster of my day, and I vehemently wished the night were over. Colby looked down and realized I was staring sightlessly in through the front windshield and caught Joe’s eyes in the mirror. He tipped his head down to hint that the problem was beside him, and Joe nodded. At the next red light, Joe turned to glance over his shoulder at the woman in the middle seat. He shared a concerned look with Colby in the mirror and turned his attention to driving, the traffic still heavy despite the lateness of the hour. Colby wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled my body into his side, letting my head rest on his chest. I blinked and returned to reality for a second as I leaned sideways, a warm weight across my shoulders holding me in place. I glanced up at Colby for an instant then relaxed against him, accepting that while he wasn’t Joe, he was offering comfort, and I appreciated the distraction. I allowed my eyes to close, and I began to work through my breathing exercises to calm down. I missed most of the drive through San Antonio, and I didn’t mind, my attention focused on breathing and taming the raging fear and wild suppositions that raced through my head. 

I lifted my head when I felt the SUV slow down and enter a parking lot, circling while Joe searched for a place to put the large vehicle. I looked out the window as he pulled in to an empty slot and sighed. I expected our reservation to be at a nice hotel and as usual, I was not disappointed. Hunter had booked us in a high-end hotel, and I had a moment of amusement and gratitude at my dad’s continuous care of me. We climbed from the car, and Joe stayed near me as we pulled our bags from the rear of the SUV. Colby handed me the handle of my trunk, and I thanked him. He nodded, and we headed toward the hotel. Joe walked between us, his hand resting in the curve of my spine as we strolled into the lobby while he chatted with his best friend. Despite the teasing and silly faces the others gave us, I felt better knowing he was there and returned their harassment of sniping comments of my own. The moment we came through the doors, anyone working within the wrestling community knew we had arrived. There were a handful of natural redheads in the business and only one traveling with four or five men that matched the description of the group with whom I walked. The second we entered the building eyes were on us, and one of the people watching us waited for an opportunity, easing away from the bar slowly as he watched us approach the check-in cue.

We stepped into the lobby, and I paused to take it in, my obsession with hotel interior design requiring I note every last detail, and for a second, I considered the idea that I spent entirely too much time in temporary residences. The open space of the room was broken up into sections, each serving its purpose. We encountered the check-in counter first, the continuous counter broken up by machines that accepted credit card payments and cups with pens in them for signing receipts. A gap of a dozen feet or more between the check-in counter and the area adjacent to the desk gave those arriving some privacy courtesy of a wall that broke up the flow of the space. Beyond that, the first portion of the room was designated as a dining area filled with tables and chairs and a buffet for breakfast to one side. The remaining space was appointed in groupings of living room furniture deliberately scattered in various arrangements. The design intended to encourage small parties to order drinks from the bar then socialize comfortably, the idea of privacy hinted at by potted plants and the spacing between each collection of couches and chairs. The restaurant opened off the main room while the bar was a standalone structure on the far side of the conversation space. Pale marble met earthy metals, heavy fabrics in soft tones caressed the curls and eddies of hardwoods, and the cozy warmth created by the lighting embraced me like a hug from my mother or best friend. In my estimation, it embodied how a hotel should be appointed to welcome guests. Still, the notion quickly overshadowed via the cacophony of noise the guests gathered at the bar emitted, the wave of sound billowing through the rest of the lobby. 

We paused to stare at the people on the far side of the room watching something on the television and listened to the raucous cheers they let out. It drowned out the chatter of guests interspersed between the bar and the desk who were talking at the top of their voices to be heard. I furrowed my brow and looked up at Joe, worried that if I needed him, I wouldn’t be able to tell him, nor would he hear me even if I were capable of vocalizing my distress over the din. Joe saw the concern and shook his head, a silent promise that he would be on hand if I had any need of him. He nudged me toward the counter, and we cued with other guests to check-in and collect our room keys. He figured if I checked in first, the men could alternate who stood with me until they had all gotten their rooms. None of us expected the staff to open all of their computers and begin taking care of the next guest in line. Five people operated the desk, and they handled the influx of guests as swiftly and efficiently as possible. The cue of staff and cast in front of us quickly dwindled as they checked in and wandered off to find their rooms. My ears started ringing from the noise filtering through the lobby from the bar, and I felt the first hints of a headache coming on. I would not be spending time downstairs if this continued, my already frayed nerves rubbed raw by the cheering and hoopla coming from across the room. The guest in front of me approached the desk, and began the process of checking in. I leaned back against Joe, and his arms wound around my waist.

“You are going to be fine. I’m right here.” He murmured in my ear, and I nodded.

The staffer ahead of me finished their registration, and the lady behind the desk motioned for me to come forward. I reluctantly stepped out of Joe’s arms and approached the counter, doing my best to remain calm while I told the woman behind it the name under which the reservation had been booked. She typed the information I provided into her computer, and after a minute, she picked up a small envelop and plastic keycard. She set the key on the machine that would code it for my room, wrote the wi-fi password in the envelope, put the card inside when the light turned green and handed it to me. 

“The primary on the account has already checked in. I hope you enjoy your stay!” She held out the envelope, and I took it slowly with a confused look on my face.

“They have? Who is listed on the account if you don’t mind my asking?” I inquired with a hint of ire in my befuddlement.

“Mr. and Mrs. Levesque are the primaries with yourself listed as a secondary.” She replied after consulting her screen.

“I see. Thank you.” I relaxed a little and took a few steps to the end of the counter.

I would have stayed there to wait for the guys, but several other guests finished and started to walk away and found me in their path to departure. I sighed and strolled a few feet away, not wanting to be too far from help if I needed it. I paused near the wall that separated the check-in space from the rest of the main floor and sent Hunter a quick text to tell him I’d checked in. I pondered the information the lady behind the counter had given me and concluded that Stephanie had arrived ahead of us and checked in. I included that information in my text to Hunter and hit send. I slid the phone back into my bag and glanced at the line, checking on the progress of my party. They were all in various stages of checking in, and I saw them peek at each other from time to time as I watched them anxiously. I focused on them and prayed for them to finish quickly, the headache growing behind my brow. I closed my eyes for a minute and rubbed at my temple, the throbbing that built steadily, indicating it was going to be a long night. I gave myself time to acknowledge my pain and dropped my guard, the noise of the room, and the stress of traveling combining to strip away all of the cautious alertness I wore like armor. Being close to the guys felt safe enough to allow myself to care for the pain I was in, and I knew that at least one of them would complete their registration in a minute or two. I regretted that decision when a pair of arms wound around my torso and pulled me back against a taller, larger frame that was not as muscular and toned as I knew Joe’s to be. My eyes snapped open, and I smelled the familiar scents of cinnamon, cherry chewing tobacco, citrus, and beer as my brain identified the person behind me. My veins froze as fear slithered through them like pythons winding around my limbs, and I choked on the air I breathed. He pressed his cheek against my hair and sniffed the soft, lightly floral smell of my shampoo, and in that instant time slowed to a crawl. Seconds felt like hours, minutes felt like days, and I felt the world narrow down to the pinpoint that was my worst nightmare becoming a reality.

“Hi, baby, I’ve missed you!” He murmured into my hair the words almost lost in the cacophony of the room. “Damn, you smell nice! Is that a new shampoo?” 

I couldn’t answer him, my body and mind seized up with shock and horror. It turned out I didn’t need to say a word as he continued to chatter.

“I heard you were going to be in town. Finally made it big, didn’t you? I knew you would. I’m proud of you; you know that? I can’t wait to join you on the main roster. It’s where we both belong.” His voice was low, and he kept it silky as he held me. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you for two weeks now. When Billy told us we were extending our trip by a day, I knew we would be in town at the same time, and I was hoping to talk to you.”

I tried to focus on my breathing and the effort of drawing in enough air to survive, the exercises my therapist had taught me doing little to keep me conscious at the moment. Part of me wanted to stop inhaling, the smell of him, the beer he’d drunk, and the tobacco he chewed making my stomach turn, but I knew I couldn’t, I had too much to live for even if it was just out of reach for the moment.

“I’ve wanted to see you and talk to you ever since you left me. Why did you leave, baby? No one will tell me. They also wouldn’t tell me where you went. I’ve been looking all over for you. I’ve been miserable without you. I’ve missed you so much. I can’t tell you how happy I am you have come back to me! Holding you like this feels so good! So right! God, I’ve missed you!” He spewed words in my ear without acknowledging my silence. I knew he didn’t care if I spoke; he had never valued my opinion unless it severely contradicted his own, and when that happened, it usually caused me pain.

My heart pounded in my ears, the racing pulse of icy blood beating a staccato rhythm that drowned out half of what he said. The image of a salsa dancing freight train flitted through my mind for a second, and under any other conditions, I would have laughed, but it did little to free me of the fear I felt. My eyes were wide, full of terror, and locked on Joe’s face, which I could see in profile. I prayed to every saint and the Virgin herself that he would turn around and see me. I needed him to rescue me from this hell I found myself in, and I accepted this without shame or remorse. I wanted to scream for him to help me, but I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t make a sound, the oxygen barely sustaining me whispering past frozen vocal cords. It got worse the longer I stood there, and the man behind me became bolder as the silence extended.

His hand slid up my arm and across my shoulder, fingers brushing my neck to turn my face toward him, “You’ve stepped up your training. You are more toned now than when we were together. You’ve also lost weight; I like it, means you are taking care of yourself. You look beautiful. You were a little thick when we were together, but I never complained because you were so damned good to me.” He purred in my ear, closing the sentence with a kiss on my cheek. 

I saw a lock of dirty blond hair fall toward my face and closed my eyes as the fine tresses caressed my skin. The fingers caressing my jaw glided down my throat, settling on the opposite shoulder and pulled me tight against his chest. His other hand ran over my belly and past my hip to grab my ass through my skirt. My eyes snapped open again, and I would have squealed in insulted surprise, but I was mute in horror. I closed my eyes again and prayed it was all a bad dream, and I would wake up in my bed, alone and safe when I opened them. I silently begged the Holy Mother for someone, anyone, to step in and make the torture stop. I tried to squeak, scream, speak, make any kind of noise that would alert my coworkers, Joe, another guest to my distress, but I couldn't move. The line that had been present when we arrived was gone, the guys were the last people to check-in and the only ones remaining in this portion of the lobby aside from the hotel staff, everyone walking away without a word to me or a glance in my direction. 

The hand cupping my ass released its grip, and slid around to splay between the curves of my hips, the pressure of his palm burning into my skin. I made a note to burn the whole outfit once this was over, not wanting any reminder of this man and the trauma he'd caused me. His hand curled around the opposite hip, and I felt bruises form under his fingers as he sank them into my skin through the material. He'd kept things polite up to that point, remembering that we were in public, and someone might protest if he got a little too erotic. When no one stopped his assault, he took that as carte blanche, and the hand on my shoulder dipped to my breast, and he gripped it painfully in an attempt to elicit a response. In the past, I would have cried out, perhaps begged him to stop or give me more. Now I sucked in a breath and stiffened further, not that I could change my stance much my body already being ramrod straight and hardened in reaction to his touch. He put his lips to my throat and kissed the skin there, nipping at it gently. I whimpered faintly, the first noise I'd been able to make, and I heard him laugh, the sound nauseating me further.

"Have you missed me that much? I remember when it took a lot more to wind you up, baby. I'm betting you haven't been with another man since you left me. I bet you haven't found anyone that treats you as good as I did. I always did know how to scratch _all_ your itches. Have you been dreaming about me and touching yourself while you remember how good we were together?" He nibbled at my neck and nuzzled my cheek, the pressure tilting my head away from him. "It's sad, really. No one will ever be as good to you as I have been, but you had to go and learn that for yourself, didn't you? A pity too, they don't know what they are missing. You are so damned good in bed, and they never get to find out how good you are. God, I can't wait to take you upstairs and remind you how good we are together!"

His hands exchanged places on my body, but the grips didn't relax, each one as bruising as before, and I felt the muscles of my abdomen clench as I gagged, the remnants of my dinner begging to be dispelled from my stomach. I saw Joe sign his incidentals form and hand it back, completing his registration, and he glanced to each side to see who else had finished their check-in. In my head, I was screaming myself hoarse for him, mentally caged within my psyche and beating on the noncorporeal walls of fear that contained me. Panic had driven logical thought from my mind, and I needed him, Colby, Drew, even Nick to turn around and see me, to give me a glimmer of hope. I drew in short, shallow breaths, enough to keep from fainting but inadequate to keep my brain from shutting down everything save basic support operations. I felt a tear slide down my cheek as the hand on my hip drifted to my thigh and started up my skirt, something highly inappropriate in public, and I thought nothing would stop him from penetrating me again. My mind couldn't handle that idea, and I had seconds of sanity left before I blacked out and collapsed over the arms of the man behind me.

Joe saw that he was the first one checked in and pivoted to where he'd last seen me, but I wasn't there. I had initially stopped at the end of the counter but moved to allow others to leave, and he hadn't seen me walk away. My absence caused him to panic, and he whipped around, his eyes searching the lobby for his missing teammate. The others saw Joe turning in place, and Colby reached out to touch his arm, a silent inquiry as to the problem that had arisen.

"I don't see Cailin," Joe said over his shoulder.

"Shit!" Colby snapped, and he handed back the page he had just signed, snatching his keycard as he did so.

He pushed Joe toward the end of the counter while murmuring promises to help him find their lost friend. Joe went reluctantly but put a hand on Colby's chest as he spotted me, and they paused to take in the scene as the others joined them. They saw my pallid face, the man behind me, and how he held me against his body, and it was Colby's hand on Joe's arm that kept him from racing to where I stood and punching the monster that dared touch me. I watched his muscles tense up as the hurricane rolled in, the rage swelling like storm clouds gathering in ahead of the destructive force of his fury. His eyes on mine were darker than their normal chocolate, and for a second, I swore I saw the devil within him. He growled and started forward, and the other members of our party, including Jon, who had joined them in line to check-in, quickly grabbed him, holding him back from committing a homicide.

I nearly lost my footing as hips ground into my back and shoved me forward as the voice in my ear continued, "I know you have been traveling all day, and I'm sure you are tired. Are you ready to go to bed, baby? I had a good match tonight, and I'm worn out, but I think some good, hard sex will help us both sleep. I miss seeing your face and how you look tangled up in the sheets after a good fucking. You always look so sweet when you are sated." His attempt at a sexy growl was pitiful compared to Joe's, and that realization almost made me smile. "Are you ready to go upstairs? I am. You can sleep in my room tonight. You do remember how much I love you, right? How good I was to you? Do you remember how you used to beg me for more? How much you loved it when I fucked you?" My brain screamed obscenities at him, picturing doing things to him that violated the Geneva convention in dozens of ways. It didn't stop him from changing the position of his hands again, one appearing at my throat, the other sliding up the opposite thigh, brushing at the hem of my skirt.

Joe pulled away from the hands that attempted to restrain him and stalked over to where we stood, his quiet rage the calm before the storm. He stopped in front of us, and the hands on my body stilled, going slightly slack as the owner realized we had company. I managed to drag my sight up Joe's body to meet his gaze and saw that he was staring at me. He could see an emotion in my face and eyes he had never seen before, and it shook him to his core. Where the confident, sassy, strong woman usually stood was a helpless creature full of abject terror, the fear gripping me as he met my stare, and the horror in my face told him I was seconds away from a breakdown. It was something he hadn't expected to witness, my facade of strength and confidence so convincing he'd believed it was who I truly was most of the time. He blamed the emotions he saw on the man behind me and knew that the person holding me was somehow responsible for the mental and emotional trauma I was suffering. He studied our body positions and knew he couldn't reach my assailant without hurting me, so he did the one thing he could do safely. He reached out and took my hand, nodding at me and mouthing 'I'm sorry' before he pressed his lips to my knuckles. The simple touch, the permission I took from his nod, and the regret for failing me was like a switch thrown in my brain. Suddenly I could breathe, I could move, and most importantly, I could scream.

"No," I said it faintly the first time, so quiet I wasn't confident I'd spoken at all, but when everything stopped, I knew I had.

"What did you say, baby?" The man behind me asked, wondering if I had uttered something of significance.

"No. No, no, no! I said, No! Get your hands off of me! You have no right to touch me. Stop Touching Me! GET OFF OF ME!!!" I began quietly, barely above a whisper, but as the air filled my lungs and my mind began to function again, I got louder and louder.

Words became insufficient, and I screamed, a blood curdling, terror-filled shriek straight out of a horror film that filled the lobby. Heads snapped in our direction, the handful of guests that had wandered into the lobby, and those in the open space behind us wondered what caused the sound sending chills up their spines. Joe grinned as I vented my terror to the heavens, and the area around us went eerily silent save for the soft drone of the televisions around the room as they displayed news and sports highlights. The man behind me released his hold on my body, surprised by my reaction, and Joe used his grip on my hand to pull me away from my captor. Their gazes clashed as Joe gently pushed me behind him and stood between us. The man that had been tormenting me turned his attention to me and ignored Joe entirely as he reinitiated our interaction.

"I'm glad you've gotten that out of your system. Do you feel better? Are you ready to go to bed now? Or do you want to stand down here and continue to make a scene?" He blamed me for the attention we were getting.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, ever. Walk away while you still can. After that, I wouldn't be surprised if my father shows up and rips you in half!" I snarled at him in refusal.

"Your daddy won't do a damned thing to me even if he is here. He's too scared of my uncle to touch me, and he wouldn't want to risk getting sued. And you know I'd do it too!" He laughed at me.

"No, he's not. He would shred you for so much as looking at me. When he finds out that you touched me…" I started to argue with him.

"Oh, stop. Hunter has never done anything to help you before, why should he start now? And don't bother mentioning your bitch of a stepmother. She wouldn't piss on you if you were fire. She wouldn't let him touch me the last time, and she sure as hell wouldn't let him help you now!" He mocked me, and Joe put a hand on my stomach to keep me from launching myself at my attacker. "My uncle owns your family, and you know it! Go ahead, call your bitch ass dad and tell him to bring your cunt of a stepmom down here so they can say hello. They can stand there and wring their hands while I take my time enjoying you just like they did the last time. Better yet, let him try to take you from me! I will beat his ass into the ground and take you and that whore wife of his upstairs and have a nice threesome with both of you!" He snickered, and I saw Joe's eyes widen at his brazen insulting of my family.

Joe knew the man across from us had made a mistake, and if his mouth continued to run, it would be nigh impossible to keep me contained. He applied a little more pressure to the hand on my belly and hoped it would be enough to stave off any retaliation on my part, but he knew if Morgan decided to come out to play, there was going to be damage to more than the shit-talking man adjacent.

"No one calls my dad a bitch, and they certainly don't call her a cunt. She may hate my guts, but she's a better human than you or your uncle can ever hope to be. If you think my daddy won't touch you are in for a rude awakening, probably in an ICU somewhere, after he rips your arms off your body and beats you with the sticky ends!" I snarled, defending my stepmother despite our antagonistic relationship. "That will be right before he shoves his hand through your chest and shows you your still-beating heart. Now I strongly recommend you walk away while you still can because if you say another word or touch me again, I will beat you to within an inch of your life and make you beg me for mercy!" I threatened him with physical harm while painting a lovely picture of what Hunter would do to him had he been present.

The man laughed and shook his head, "You don't scare me! You've never fought back once! You just lay there and take it any way I want to give it to you and beg for more! You are a little whore who loves her pleasure with a large dose of pain, and you would love nothing more than for me to beat you while I fuck you one more time! Come on, little whore, come and get it! You know you have missed my dick inside you!" He taunted me while sharing my innermost secrets.

"Liar! I always fought back until you beat me so severely, I couldn't. I was always faithful to you, even when you were sleeping around on me. I tried to leave, and you raped me! You are a liar, and I hate you!" I screamed at him, not caring that I'd exposed my soul to the world, and I pushed Joe's arm away so that I could stand toe to toe with the man who had abused me.

"Bitch, I never raped you! You begged for it!" He roared at me, and without warning, he slapped me. 

That was the wrong answer, and he found out exactly why, as I let Morgan off her leash. Joe reached for me a second too late, and all he could do was watch as I unleashed four years of pent up rage, fear, and bitterness on the man who had ruined my life. I threw a punch, and the man in front of me grabbed my wrist and spun me around intending to put my back against his chest. He regretted it an instant later when I elbowed him in the face mid-spin hard enough to shatter his nose. Blood ran down his face in a thick ribbon of viscous crimson fluid and dripped on to the floor staining the white marble. His hands released me and went to his face, eyes wide with surprise, and I made use of the unprotected body, punching him hard in the ribs and kidney. He doubled over, and I put my knee into the already broken nose, hearing and feeling the bones of his face give way. He jerked upright, and his hands fell away from his face as he flailed in an attempt to stay upright. I grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward me, a quick hip toss bouncing his head off the carpet covered concrete. He winced and pulled his hand free from my grasp, one going to the back of his head, the other held up to stave off further attack. I flung myself on top of him and began to swing, punches raining down as I battered his head and shoulders. He defended himself as best he could, but when his head was covered, I used fists and knees to punish his chest and kidneys, doing damage wherever I landed a jab, and that was a frequent occurrence. He threw a few punches when I was busy with his torso, but his vision was blurry, and most went wide. A couple of them connected with my arms, and one clipped my jaw, but it wasn't enough to slow me down. I screamed as I assaulted him, announcing to everyone watching what a horrible person he was until an arm wound around my torso and I was yanked off of him kicking and howling. Joe handed Colby his room key, and stepped into the fray, determined to put an end to things as he lifted his girlfriend away from the wounded man under her. A wild kick caught the man on the floor across the jaw rendering him nigh unconscious for a minute while Joe pulled me away from my prey and flung my flailing form at Colby.

"Take her upstairs!" He roared at his best friend, and the three men behind him rushed to comply. 

Colby's arms wound around my chest and swept my legs from under me, lifting me into a bridal carry, and he turned toward the elevator. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face into his neck, clinging to him as Morgan faded, and Cailin stepped to the fore, the fierce tigress giving way to a sobbing hysterical mess. Nick, Drew, and Dean grabbed suitcases, bags, and my trunk, dragging them behind us as Colby carried me toward the lifts. As we walked away, a trainer and three members of the TNA management raced past us toward the two men that remained behind, their expressions a combination of horror, fear, and concern for their athlete and what he might have done. They stopped beside the downed man and began to check him over, helping him sit up once they determined he'd not sustained damage to his neck. Joe couldn't contain the grin that spread across his face as he took in the damage his woman had wrought on the man below him. His woman? When had that happened? Was she really his? 

He brushed aside the questions that ran through his mind and surveyed her handiwork, mentally noting that he should avoid angering her whenever possible in the future. She'd blacked both of his eyes, and the swelling and bruising around his right eye indicated that the bones of the socket itself might be fractured. She'd crushed his nose, broken his jaw, and the way he guarded his chest hinted at damage to the ribs beyond bruising the bones. The fall to the floor suggested he might be concussed a hypothesis backed up by his inaccurate attempts at punching her. His other hand guarded his belly, and Joe suspected the man would be pissing blood for days. Yes, his woman could pack a hell of a punch when she was pissed, and he knew her well enough to recognize Morgan's signature writ large across this man's body. He smirked, amused, and a touch scared by the damage the feisty woman he was falling for had caused. He waited for the training staff to complete their examination of the man on the floor and knew this had to be her ex, the one she never talked about, the one that caused her to be guarded in everything she did. It took a few minutes, but eventually, the trainer got the wounded man to his feet, a member of the management team supporting him on the other side, and Joe stepped in front of them to have a word with the injured athlete.

"Do not come near her ever again. Next time none of us will intervein. We will let her beat you until she's satisfied, or you are dead. Either one is fine by us." He warned the damaged man.

"I will never stop looking for her, and when I find her again, I will do exactly what I said I would. I will remind her of exactly who she belongs to!" The broken man in front of him promised.

"Then you are going to be in a world of pain because she does not belong to you anymore. She's moved on with her life, and I think it is safe to say based on her reaction to you tonight that she doesn't want anything to do with you." Joe shook his head at the guy's determination to insert himself into Cailin's life.

"Do you know who I am? Do you think one little fight from that bitch is enough to scare me away? Please! I'm not scared of her or her family! Let 'em come at me! What are they gonna do? Beg me to stop?" The wounded man lisped and slurred as he crowed in hubris and spat blood at Joe's feet.

"I honestly don't give a damn about who you are or who you think you are. That young lady has a family you do not want to mess with and friends who are strongly connected throughout this business. Trust me; if you want to keep your career, you do not want to come near her again." Joe flexed a little as he threatened the bleeding imbecile in front of him.

"My uncle is Steve Austin. I know all about her connections, and she's not any more connected than I am! She's less connected last time I checked! Her own family won't claim her, and if they won't, no one will! And I ain't scared of you, neither, you overgrown spick!" The idiot goaded Joe.

The trainer and staff members from TNA were trying to get the man to be quiet, but it wasn't working, every word more inflammatory than the last. When Joe leaned into the other man's face to growl at him, they took a half step back, leaving their charge exposed to any damage the large Samoan wanted to dole out.

"My name is Joe Anoa'i, the son of Sika Anoa'i, one half of the Wild Samoans, brother to Matt, or you might know him better as Rosey, cousin to the Rock, Umaga, and Rikishi as well as the Usos." He paused as what little color remained drained out of the other man's face, "Oh good, you know who my family is, which means you know I'm not Latino but Samoan, you hillbilly prick. And you are very wrong about her family. Hunter claims her proudly, Undertaker has claimed her as his daughter, and if I have my way I'm going to claim her, too. She has people to back her up. Now, I'm going to say this one more time, in case your brains are so scrambled you didn't understand the first two times. Walk away while you still have that ability, and don't look back. She's not your girlfriend anymore." He closed with a menacing smile that sent shivers down the damaged man's spine.

The trainer and staff pulled the wounded idiot away from the irate Samoan, flinging promises to keep him away over their shoulders as they drug him off for medical treatment. They knew if things were allowed to continue, the man in their arms would quickly become a corpse and be entirely deserving of his own death. Once they were gone, Joe turned and walked quickly toward the stairs, needing to burn off the rage he felt, and three flights seemed to do the trick. A quick text as he crossed the lobby and a reply sent him in the direction of his hotel room and the woman he intended to call his own. After he departed the lobby emptied steadily, the athletes from the various promotions encouraged to find their beds by staff from the companies by which they were employed. There were a few couples and a group or two remaining when they had cleared the space, and one of those couples had intimate knowledge of the whole situation. My parents sat a few yards away from the action, hidden from view by a pillar and some well-placed foliage. Stephanie turned to Hunter with a smirk on her lips and raised her glass to him.

"She stood up to him! I told you she would if she had the chance! I knew this would be good for her!" She grinned impishly.

"No, Steph, this was not good for her. She didn't need that piece of shit anywhere near her! She completely froze until Joe came over and touched her. She had a panic attack, and that is not good! She has a match tomorrow night! What if this impacts her ability to do her job?" Hunter glared at her, furious that his daughter had been in the situation at all.

"She needed to face him. It was the only way she would get closure and move on. You want grandchildren, don't you? Now that she's told him off and beaten the hell out of him, maybe she will start looking for a man and settle down!" Stephanie argued with him.

"She needed never to see him again. Ever. She needed to relax and enjoy her evening. She needed support and protection. She did not need to shut down, then freak out and pummel a man nearly to death in the middle of a hotel lobby! She needed not to be tortured by the man that almost murdered her! This was not what she needed at all!" He snapped at her, pressing his position with his next words, "And for someone who hates her so much perhaps you need to reconsider your opinion. She defended you to that sack of shit, even admitted that despite your hatred of her, you are a better person than he will ever be. Why would she do that? She could have agreed that you are a bitch and a cunt, but she didn't. Why?" 

She blinked and pulled back from the discussion, recognizing that she was losing the debate and had no ground to stand on in the face of his accusation. She considered saying something pithy and inflammatory, but his phone rang. He put it on speaker so she could hear, wanting her to understand how damaging the evening had been for his oldest child and how this would affect her in the coming weeks and months.

"Hi baby, how are you?" He asked as though he were unaware of the events that had transpired.

"Daddy?" My voice came through the speaker shaky and full of tears and sniffles.

"What's wrong?" He sounded concerned while feigning ignorance, and Stephanie suppressed a snort.

"He was there. In the lobby. He…" I sucked a breath and sobbed, "He attacked me! He put his hands all over me! I can still feel him on my skin."

He rubbed his forehead and held back a sigh, "I'm so sorry, baby. Are you alright? Are you safe? Where were the guys? Why weren't they with you? Did you get separated?" 

I had locked myself in the bathroom of the suite and refused to come out, "I'm okay for now. I um, I think I am um, I think I'm safe? He's still downstairs, and I'm in someone's room. Don't be mad at them, they were checking in, and they didn't mean to leave me alone. I was waiting for them to finish when he grabbed me. I need a shower; I need to get the smell of him off of me!"

He heard me hiccup and noticed I had given him a vague answer on the second question and looked at the phone, worried I didn't feel safe with the guys, "Cailin, are you safe? I need to know you are safe before I do anything else."

"I um, I'm okay. I'm safe, or I think I am." I sounded a little confused, but I figured if the door held, no one could reach me. "What do I do now? They know. Daddy, they know!"

"Right now, you get some rest, and we will address the whole thing tomorrow. I can't do anything until then anyway. I will be there as soon as I can, and I will try to fix it then." He promised he would help me deal with the situation in the morning.

"There is one thing you can do tonight." I countered him, and he heard a note in my voice that said I was recovering quickly.

"What is that, baby girl?" He would have given me the moon in that instant if he thought it would heal my heart.

"You can call Billy and get that asshole in the ring with me. I want to end this on my terms. Please, Daddy, do this for me. I need this. Please." Hunter blinked at the rage that unexpectedly appeared in my voice.


End file.
